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WHEN I WAS A GIRL 
IN SWITZERLAND 



















CHILDREN OF OTHER LANDS BOOKS 

Independent Volumes With Characteristic Illus¬ 
trations and Cover Designs i2mo Cloth 

There are many books about the children of other coun¬ 
tries, but no other group like this, with each volume written 
by one who has lived the foreign child life described, and 
learned from subsequent experience in this country how to 
tell it in a way attractive to American children — and in fact 
to Americans of any age. 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN CHINA 

By Yan Pfcou Lee 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ITALY 

By Marietta Ambrosi 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN JAPAN 

By Sakae Shioya 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN GREECE 

By George Demetrios 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PALESTINE 

By Mousa J. Kaleel 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

By Robert Jonckheere 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN RUSSIA 

By Vladimir De Bogory Mokrievitch 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN ROUMANIA 

By Dr. J. S. Van Teslaar 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN HOLLAND 

By Cornelia De Groot 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN MEXICO 

By Mercedes Godoy 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ICELAND 

By Holmfridur Arnadottir 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PERSIA 

By Youel B. Mirza 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN SCOTLAND 

By George McPherson Hunter 


LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
BOSTON 

























“My Own Dear Mother’s Picture.”— Page 51 








WHEN I WAS A GIRL 
IN SWITZERLAND 


By 

S. LOUISE PATTESON 

Author of “ Pussy Meow,” and “ How to Have 
Bird Neighbors ** 


ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 

r- t 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 

c >°l K ' 


> ) : 

























.Published, October, 1921 



Copyright, 1921 
By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 

All Rights Reserved 

When I Was a Girl In Switzerland 


MOV 18 1921 

Cl. A 6 2 7 7 8 9 

. ( . 

Printed in U. S. A. 


1Rorwoo& press 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
Norwood, Mass. 











CONTENTS 

PAGE 


I. A Motherless Home . . 9 

II. Happier Days and a New 

Mother.23 

III. Earliest Recollections . . 33 

IV. At Grandfathers ... 44 

Y. America and Switzerland . 60 

YI. A Baby Brother . . .77 

YII. Pestalozzi and School-Days . 86 

YIII. More School-Days ... 94 

IX. School Holidays . . .104 

X. A School Outing . . .112 

XI. The Dear Old Schoolhouse . 119 

XII. Our New Frau Pfarrer . . 125 

XIII. The Needlework School . 136 

XIY. Popular Holidays and Folk¬ 
lore .141 

XY. Some Simple Tasks of Child¬ 
hood .153 

XYI. An Eventful Decision . . 166 

XYII. The High School—First Year 174 

XVIII. Everything Working Out All 


Right. 186 

5 










6 


CONTENTS 


XIX. Girlish Plannings . . . 195 

XX. Misoellania .... 199 

XXL The High School — Second 

Year. 208 

XXII. An Unexpected Turn of 

Events. 215 

XXIII. America the Wonderful . 221 

Index.229 





/*? 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

“My Own Dear Mother’s Picture” 

(Page 51) . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Kaiserstuhl.10 

One of those big Swiss Farmhouses where 
the Barn and Shed are under the same 
Roof as the Dwelling .... 24 

The dear old Village Church ... 24 

The Storks.54 

Pestalozzi, Friend of Children and Father 

of Orphans.88 

The Obscure Village of Weiach . . . 100 

Teacher held the Amsel up, so that the 

Children could see it . . . . 100 

Charlemagne’s Palace.112 

Charlemagne on the Grossmiinster . . 112 

The Hospitable Tile Stove . . . 132 

The Sampler bids fair to become an Heir¬ 
loom ....... 140 

Fasnacht Day in Zurich .... 142 

Uninvited Guests at a Picnic Table . . 122 

A Stretch of Vine-clad Rhine Bank in the 

Background.158 

Boys as well as Girls fetch and carry things 

in both Tause and Kratze . . . 164 

The Hauser Home was built in 1812 . . 212 

7 














WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN 
SWITZERLAND 


CHAPTER I 

A MOTHERLESS HOME 

My family home was in an obscure vil¬ 
lage called Weiach, but situated on the 
romantic river Rhine. Our Swiss lan¬ 
guage was an equally obscure dialect. 

In my home in those early days there 
was no mother. We had a housekeeper, 
and she was kind to me, that is, she let me 
do about as I pleased. But I found it 
pleasanter in the homes of my aunts and 
other friends than at home, so I spent 
most of my time visiting among them. 

I liked most of all to go to Aunt Eliza¬ 
beth, my father’s younger sister. Her 
husband was the village postmaster. Now 

the Swiss Federal Railroad brings the 

9 






10 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


mail and passengers to Weiach; but in 
those days a stage-coach brought them. 
There were always some children present 
to watch it come and go, for it was driven 
by a gaily uniformed postilion, with 
horses in glittering harness; and he used 
to play lively airs on his bugle as they 
galloped through the village, and on to¬ 
ward the little town of Kaiserstuhl. 

That name “ Kaiserstuhl ” is signifi¬ 
cant. Literally translated, it means 
“ Emperor’s seat.” Centuries before 
there was a Republic of Switzerland, 
Julius Caesar reigned over Helvetia, a 
part of Europe which is now included in 
Switzerland. A symbolic figure called 
Helvetia is the patron goddess of Switzer¬ 
land, as Columbia is of America. 

In Kaiserstuhl Caesar had one of his 
headquarters in a grim-looking tower 
which still frowns over that antiquated 
town. Opposite the road and facing an 
overcrowded churchyard is a quaint and 
small church which has its back turned, 













1 



Ivaiserstuhl.— Page 10. 

In this grim-looking tower Julius Caesar had his headquarters. 

















IN SWITZERLAND 


11 


as if in holy horror, to its gloomy neigh¬ 
bor. For inside of this tower are still 
shown ghastly implements of discipline 
that were used in those early days. 

Hard on the opposite Rhine shore, 
in the province of Baden, there is a 
beautiful castle. In my days it was an 
inn, to which we often went for a holi¬ 
day outing; now it is a hospital. In 
those days also the Rhine was spanned by 
an ancient covered bridge which had a 
rumbling echo. It used to be great sport 
for us children to shout from one end of 
the bridge to the other as loudly as we 
could, and then listen to our own words. 

In Kaiserstuhl I had a friend named 
Marie Pilger, several years older than I. 
Whenever there were any festivals or 
fairs there, Marie would come and fetch 
me to her home for the occasion. Some¬ 
times we went to the Rhine bridge, and 
just as sure as the children on the oppo¬ 
site side saw us they would shout over to 
us, “ Oh, you Swiss cheese-bags! ” Then 










12 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


we would shout back, “ Oh, you Badener 
wind-bags! ” 

During a visit to Switzerland I was 
sorry to miss that old bridge. In its place 
was a modern one. A statue of the mar¬ 
tyred saint, John of Nepomuk, which 
used to be a wonderment to us children 
because it was so huge, had been removed 
from the far end to near the middle, so as 
to indicate the boundary line between the 
two countries. 

One could write a whole book about 
Kaiserstuhl, so ancient is it and so quaint 
and hilly and crooked. The old town lit¬ 
erally hangs on a slope extending all the 
way from .the tower to the Rhine shore, 
and the streets are paved with cobblestones 
clear up to the gloomy old houses. In 
Switzerland, horses are scarce and light 
teaming is done with dogs. I have seen 
women who were driving milk-carts help 
the dog pull his load up those steeps. 
From an incident such as this probably 
originated the reports circulated by tour- 












IN SWITZERLAND 


13 


ists that in Switzerland one may see a dog' 
and a woman hitched together to a load. 
It is not true. 

In Baedeker’s “ Switzerland,” Kaiser- 
stuhl is referred to on page 59 as “ an old 
town with massive tower,” and the rail¬ 
road station, which is midway between the 
two places, is listed as “ Weiach-Kaiser- 
stuhl.” 

My cousin Rudi, the postmaster’s son, 
was only a year older than I; but ever 
since I could remember he delivered the 
mail to our house; and I suppose to all the 
other villagers. He was commonly called 
the “ Postrudi,” because it is customary 
there to designate people by their occupa¬ 
tion or location, or both. 

In Switzerland handwork and home¬ 
made things are favored by the Govern¬ 
ment over factory products. People who 
make things in their own homes do not 
have to pay as high a tax as those do who 
make them on a large scale in factories. 
This is done to encourage people to be 







14 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


their own masters, instead of serving 
somebody who wants all the profits. For 
this reason many industries, such as 
weaving, knitting, braiding of straw, 
watchmaking, and wood-carving, are ex¬ 
tensively carried on in homes, and every 
locality has some leading home industry. 

The great home industry in my part of 
the country was silk-weaving, and it was 
pursued almost entirely by women. My 
Aunt Verena, Father’s older sister, had 
two daughters who were silk-weavers. 
Their looms were in a wing which had 
been added to their house for this especial 
purpose, and this room was to my childish 
notion the prettiest I had ever known. It 
was papered in blue and white, and the 
flowers were the lovely Swiss gentians. I 
loved to go there, too. 

Another silk-weaver friend was Nenna, 
who had her loom in the living-room. 
The walls in her house were not so pretty 
as those at my cousins’; they were finished 
in wood, and looked dark and gloomy. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


15 


Every day Nenna sat at her loom, just as 
my cousins did, plying a shuttle from side 
to side. She made a web of silk, and so 
did my cousins, about once a month, as I 
heard them say. Every so often the three 
went away somewhere all dressed up, each 
carrying an immense roll of something on 
top of the head. It was the bolt of silk 
cloth that they had woven, and they were 
taking it to the city, five hours distant. 

In those days distances were measured 
by hours, and an hour was about three 
American miles. Now distances are 
measured by the metric system. 

Another of my friends was Barbara, 
the seamstress. She lived in a house that 
was thatched with straw, and not tiled like 
the other houses. The straw thatch hung 
so far over the windows that it made the 
rooms dark, and it was not pleasant there. 
But Barbara made my dresses, and I had 
to go there to have them fitted. 

I always wanted my clothes made as a 
lady friend of mine wore hers, the skirt 


16 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


separate, and the basque tight-fitting. But 
Barbara was contrary and always made 
me just those one-piece dresses that were 
worn by all the other girls. 

This other friend, whose clothes I liked 
so well, was just a lady. There were no 
looms in her house and no dressmaking. 
She sometimes worked in her garden, 
which had a picket fence all around it, 
overgrown with vines. Sometimes she 
had time to curl my hair into ringlets. 

Then, of course, I sometimes visited 
our “ Frau Pfarrer.” Her husband was 
the “ Herr Pfarrer,” or minister. In 
Switzerland a lady shares the title of her 
husband: if a doctor, she is Frau Doctor; 
if a professor, she is Frau Professor, and 
so on. 

Frau Pfarrer lived in the “ Pfarrhaus,” 
as the parsonage was called. It was near 
our house, and right beside the church¬ 
yard gate. When I went to her house I 
had to ring a bell. Then somebody up¬ 
stairs did something to make the door fly 


IN SWITZERLAND 


17 


open. First there was a big hall with red 
tiled floor, then there were stairs almost 
as white as snow. I forgot to say that 
you had to wipe your feet on an iron rack 
and then on a rope mat, before the door 
would fly open. 

Those stairs were scrubbed every week, 
whether they needed it or not. The 
woman who scrubbed at the Pfarrhaus 
was also my friend. 

Around the Pfarrhaus there was a big 
garden with graveled paths, and near the 
gate there was a summer-house covered 
with vines. During pleasant weather 
Frau Pfarrer often sat in there with her 
fancy-work. This summer-house was one 
of my favorite spots in the whole village. 
There was a table in it, and benches, and 
windows to look through. 

A Swiss girl learns very early how 
to knit, and our Frau Pfarrer taught me 
in that summer-house before I was old 
enough to go to school. She also taught 
me how to make the balls that we girls 


18 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


used to play with. We just took a wad 
of paper and wrapped some yarn around 
it until it was the right shape and size. 
Then we covered it with a layer or two 
of brightly colored worsted and sewed it 
round and round with fancy stitches. 

There was a wall around the Pfarrhaus 
garden almost as tall as the summer¬ 
house itself. The only place where an 
outsider could get a glimpse of the gar¬ 
den was through the iron gate. 

Frau Pfarrer used to send me on all 
sorts of errands. Once she gave me a 
little crock and told me to go to the 
bakery and get a “ hebel,” which is a 
bread-raiser. It is just a piece of dough 
left over from one baking for the next, 
and allowed to get very spongy. With 
this they raise their bread, just as in this 
country we do it with yeast. 

I had never been sent to the bakery 
before and didn’t know where it was. I 
went to the schoolhouse and walked right 
up to the schoolmaster. He was fast 


IN SWITZERLAND 


19 


asleep, and when I held that crock before 
him and asked for a hebel, the children 
laughed so loud that it awakened him. 
When he saw what I wanted he laughed, 
too, and he didn’t scold the children at all. 
But from that day until the day we left 
for America I had to hear about that 
hebel. 

Sometimes Frau Pfarrer had guests 
from the city, ladies who wore the newest 
fashions long before anybody in our vil¬ 
lage had them. One such guest was 
Mari Widmer. Mari allowed me to call 
her by her first name, and she wore the 
first hoop-skirt that I ever saw. It was 
from her that I learned that Switzerland 
was one of the most beautiful countries in 
the world, and that there were countries 
where they did not have snow on the 
mountains in the summer-time. In her 
city home and also at the Pfarrhaus Mari 
was used to the fine white baker’s bread, 
but she was very fond of our rye bread 
and our unsalted white butter. 


20 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


It was quite an honor for any little girl 
to have Mari as a friend, but I was al¬ 
ready very democratic, even in my young 
days. There was in our village a poor- 
house. In it on the ground floor lived an 
old couple known as the Christofels. 
They had a goat, for in Switzerland the 
goat is the poor man’s cow. Every so 
often there were baby goats. We called 
them “ gitzeli,” and they were very lively 
little playmates. I do not remember 
where the mother-goat stayed nights, but 
the gitzeli had their bed under a bench in 
the living-room, and in daytime they were 
all about the house. Frau Christofel al¬ 
ways served whatever they had at a meal 
in a big brown dish. From a leather 
strap tacked to the wall in loops, each 
took a spoon and both ate from the same 
dish. They never invited me to eat with 
them, but that was, I suppose, because 
they had only those two spoons. 

Up-stairs in the same house lived a 
family with children. The house was so 


IN SWITZERLAND 


21 


very old it had to be torn down, but those 
people just wouldn’t move. I was in 
their room one morning when they were 
eating breakfast and one side of the build¬ 
ing was already gone, so that I could look 
right out into the churchyard. But 
finally they did go, and then the village 
built a fire-engine house on the spot, with 
some rooms up-stairs where the band used 
to play. 

I do not remember having more than 
three playmates during those early years. 
One was Vreneli, the sexton’s daughter. 
Her father always rang the church bell on 
Sundays, and when there was a wedding 
or a funeral, and every evening at six 
o’clock when it was “ betzyt,” meaning 
prayer time. Another of my playmates 
was Setti, daughter of the innkeeper who 
was the brother of my lady friend. The 
other girl was Lizzie, the tinker’s daugh¬ 
ter. But I was more given to visiting 
around among my friends than to playing 
with little girls. Almost daily Father 


22 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


had to go hunting for me at meal-time. 
Whenever he found me at my lady 
friend’s house, he stopped to have a little 
visit with her, and then he was always 
pleasanter about it than he was when he 
had to hunt for me in places farther 
away. He would carry me home on his 
back with my arms twined around his 
neck. 


CHAPTER II 


HAPPIER DAYS AND A NEW MOTHER 

As I look back upon those early days 
I recall that there were seven in our 
family: Grandfather, my father, my 
uncles Hans, Heiri, and Hans-Heiri, 
Greta the housekeeper, and my small self. 
On three of his sons Grandfather spent 
only two names, although he had a whole 
almanac full of names to choose from. He 
was always looking up things in that 
almanac. Certain things had to be done 
on Johannis day, others on Andreas day. 
On Martin’s day certain payments and 
interests fell due, and so on. Then also 
there were things recorded in the alma¬ 
nac, for instance, what day Katy the cow 
went dry, when Csesar the horse was 
bought, and so on. The weights and 
measurements of the pigs and calves were 

also recorded from time to time, as were 

23 


24 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


many other things. Yes, the almanac was 
an important document in a Swiss family. 
From it names were chosen for the babies, 
and name-days were celebrated in families 
rather than birthdays. My father’s name- 
day was Jacob’s day in late July. On 
that day we always had the first new pota¬ 
toes from our fields for dinner. 

Uncle Heiri was my godfather. He 
married the daughter of one of our neigh¬ 
bors, and then I got another Aunt Eliza¬ 
beth. She lived in one of those big farm¬ 
houses where the barns and sheds are 
under the same roof as the dwelling. 
They also had their own fountain; the 
year engraved on it was 1731, the same 
year that the house was built. That was 
only twenty-five years later than the vil¬ 
lage church, which bore the mark 1706. 

At the fountain, people watered their 
cattle, housewives washed their greens, 
boys sailed their boats in the trough, and 
any one who was thirsty drank at the 
spout. 




The Dear Old Village Church .—Page 36 . 

Church and churchyard form the nucleus of every Swiss village. 
This church was built in 1706. 


One of those big Swiss Farmhouses where the barn and shed 

ARE UNDER THE SAME ROOF AS THE DWELLING. —Page 24 . 

Switzerland is rich in forests, and houses are built of the best timber. 
This one has housed successive generations of the same family since 1731, 








IN SWITZERLAND 


25 


In due time Godfather started a bakery 
and made the white bread that was used 
at the Pfarrhaus. He also made all sorts 
of cakes for holidays, and those big bis¬ 
cuits which we called “ weggli.” They 
were just delicious with honey, of which 
we always had plenty because we kept 
bees. 

After a while Uncle Hans also left 
home. 

He was “ President ” of the village, as 
the mayor is called there. Later he be¬ 
came representative of his district. But 
he always remained a plain farmer, so 
much so that he became known as a 
“ modern Cincinnatus.” By that time 
Father had some apprentice boys to learn 
his trade, which was that of a locksmith. 
Those boys and the helpers in Father’s 
shop were members of our family. From 
that time on life in our home became more 
cheerful, for those lads made merry with 
their songs and yodels and dancing at 
every leisure hour. They taught me to 


26 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


dance, a boy holding the mouth-organ 
with one hand and swinging me about the 
room with the other. 

Vreneli, Setti, and Lizzie often came to 
my house to play. I was nearest to a 
brickyard where we got our clay for mak¬ 
ing mud-pies. Playing “ house ” was one 
of our favorite pastimes. I would be the 
mother, Vreneli the father, because she 
was taller than I, Setti and Lizzie the 
aunts. We used to borrow a neighbor 
girl to be our baby. 

In Switzerland a family is often named 
after the trade of the father, or after some 
peculiar trait of an ancestor. The little 
girl we used to borrow was known as 
“Brod-Hanse Mari,” because her father’s 
name was Hans, and he at one time had 
been a dealer in bread— Brod. 

Mari had long blonde curls, and one 
day we girls concluded that they were too 
long. I got the scissors and Vreneli held 
Mari while I trimmed those curls to suit 
our taste. 


TN SWITZERLAND 


27 


Soon after that one day I met Mari’s 
mother coming from the village fountain, 
and carrying a “ gelte ” of water on her 
head. Mari was walking beside her with 
a tiny gelte of water also on her head. A 
gelte is similar to a small tub, and differ¬ 
ent sizes are made for old and young, of 
both wood and copper. 

Mari’s mother invited me most cordially 
to go home with her. I did so, and when 
we got inside she closed the door, gave 
me a terrible spanking and sent me 
home saying, “ I guess you know what it’s 
for.” 

Once in a while we played in Vreneli’s 
house. She was almost as near to the 
brickyard as I was, but she had a fretful 
grandmother and we never stayed there 
very long. At Lizzie’s house it was un¬ 
pleasant because her father had his tinker 
shop in the living-room and it was full of 
queer odors. In cold weather sometimes 
also the cow was bedded in there in a cor¬ 
ner. Many a time I have seen her there 


28 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


with a dear little calf beside her. Setti 
lived at the inn, where there were always 
many people, so, taking it all around, my 
home was the best to play in. 

One rainy day I was playing alone. I 
had made several trips to the brickyard 
for clay, and my shoes were muddy, the 
strings untied and trailing. While I had 
my hands in the “ dough,” along came the 
Herr Pfarrer down the road toward our 
house. 

Now in a Swiss village Herr Pfarrer is 
the most august personage. Whenever a 
child meets him, a respectful curtsy and 
proffer of the right hand is in order. I 
wiped my muddy hands on my apron and 
extended my right with the usual greet¬ 
ing, “ God greet you, Herr Pfarrer.” 
As I did so I happened to think of my 
disreputable-looking shoes, and, forget¬ 
ting all about the dignity and loftiness of 
Herr Pfarrer, I held up a foot and asked 
him to tie the string. I think the Rever¬ 
end gentleman must have been touched by 


IN SWITZERLAND 


29 


the innocence and spontaneity of my re¬ 
quest, for he did smilingly stoop without 
a moment’s hesitation and tie both of my 
shoes. I can to this day see the dark 
streaks which those muddy strings left 
across the backs of his white hands. 
When he had finished he took out his im¬ 
maculate handkerchief and wiped them 
off. 

On another occasion I was busy carry¬ 
ing shavings from our carpenter’s 
work-bench into the wood-shed. Herr 
Pfarrer had stopped to talk with my fa¬ 
ther, and I had to pass them every trip, 
both going and coming. It had been so 
forcefully impressed upon me that Herr 
Pfarrer must be greeted in the proper 
way whenever you pass him, that I 
stopped every time to curtsy and to 
proffer my hand, until finally Father told 
me I was excused. 

I am sure I should not remember these 
incidents were it not for the fact they 
were common gossip. I had to hear 


30 WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 

about them from time to time until we left 
for America. 

One of my early recollections is of our 
house full of company: uncles, aunts, 
cousins, and some strangers. On every 
hand, in pantry and storeroom and cel¬ 
lar, for days past, shelves had been loaded 
and cupboards filled with good things to 
eat. There were hams and sausages and 
roasts, and the kinds of breads and cake 
that we had only on holidays. And yet 
this was no holiday time. 

On this day when we had so much com¬ 
pany, my lady friend was there, too, and 
she was the most beautiful of all the 
guests. She had all the things which, ac¬ 
cording to my childish notion, belonged 
to the outfit of a fine lady: a silk parasol, 
lace shawl, beaded purse, gold watch and 
chain, and her dress was of that wonder¬ 
ful silk which could “ stand alone.” 

Soon after all this company got to¬ 
gether they formed a procession. When 
all were lined up two by two they reached 


IN SWITZERLAND 


31 


from our house to the village fountain. 
Then they started to walk over to the 
church, my father and my lady friend 
walking in front and I between -them. 
When we got into the church my father 
and the lady stepped forward where they 
were met by the Herr Pfarrer. I started 
to follow them, but one of those strange 
ladies caught hold of me and held me tight 
until Father and the lady came back to 
their seats. Then we all went home. 

The lower story of our house was so 
arranged that the upper half of the par¬ 
tition walls could be raised on hinges and 
fastened to the ceiling. On this occasion 
the whole down-stairs, except the kitchen, 
was one great dining-hall. Tables were 
set with snowy linen and glittering silver 
and loaded with the good things I had 
seen in storeroom and pantry and cellar. 
Most beautiful of all were the flowers, a 
great bouquet on every table, and many 
bottles of ruby-colored wine. 

I have ever since remembered that day 


32 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


as the first time I could have all the cake 
and pie I wanted; I also got a new doll. 

It was indeed a great feast—a wedding 
feast—for on that occasion my father told 
me that my lady friend was now my 
mother. 


CHAPTER III 


EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS 

Some of my earliest recollections are 
not happy ones. I tell them in this 
chapter because I wanted my story to 
have a pleasant beginning. 

The most “ away back ” incident that I 
can remember happened to a doll—a 
“ bought ” doll. My other dolls had all 
been rag dolls. And this was a boy-doll 
dressed in white knitted jacket, cap and 
trousers, like a Swiss lad in a winter sport 
suit. I do not remember who gave me that 
doll, but have always believed that I did 
not have it long, because the last time I 
saw it, it was still white and clean. That 
“ last time ” was when I looked through 
tears at my dollie as it floated a few min¬ 
utes in a cistern before it sank from sight. 
Our neighbor bojr Jacques had knocked 
it out of my hand. 


33 


34 


TV HEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


Jacques was only a year older than I, 
but he was a big strong boy. He was a 
stutterer, and whenever he could not say 
the words he wanted to fast enough, he 
would make such terrible faces that any 
little girl would run for dear life. His 
orchard and ours joined where there was 
a ridge all the way across. In the cleft 
of that ridge every spring grew the pretty 
flowers which here we call snowdrops. I 
feel sure that some of those snowdrops 
grew on our side; but whenever I went to 
get any it seemed as though Jacques was 
lying in wait somewhere. He would wait 
until I was just on the point of picking a 
flower and then come on the run and 
make one of his frightful faces. It 
seemed as if he knew that that was all he 
had to do to scare any little girl. 

It was the same way with a walnut- 
tree that stood in our orchard, but so close 
to the boundary line that nearly half the 
nuts fell over on Jacques’ side. It was 
my daily task to gather up the fruits that 


IN SWITZERLAND 


35 


fell in our orchard, whether apples, pears, 
plums, or nuts. But just as sure as I 
stepped across the line for a nut Jacques 
would run out from hiding and pursue 
me. 

One of my earliest recollections is the 
funeral of my uncle, Hans-Heiri. The 
last time I looked at him he lay in a cas¬ 
ket outside the front door. All the young 
people of our village, led by the school¬ 
master, sang around the casket. Then 
they formed a procession and went to the 
churchyard, four of the young men bear¬ 
ing the casket on their shoulders. Many 
were crying as they walked along. I was 
crying, too, but that was because I wasn’t 
allowed to be in the procession. I couldn’t 
see why those should cry who were in it. 
After they had all filed into the church¬ 
yard there was more singing at the grave, 

and then thev went into the church. 

%/ 

From a window I could see it all, and I 
was still crying when they came back 
home. 


36 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


In Switzerland the Church is really a 
state institution, the same as the public 
school. During a visit some years ago to 
my old home I took pictures of the dear 
old village church just as a funeral pro¬ 
cession was filing in through the church¬ 
yard gate. For the size of our village it 
was astonishing to me how many people 
turned out. It is a sort of unwritten law 
that at a funeral service every home in the 
village should be represented. Inciden¬ 
tally this photograph shows to the ex¬ 
treme left a part of my home and, in fact, 
the very window from which I watched 
Uncle Hans-Heiri’s funeral procession. 
On the extreme right is shown a corner of 
the summer-house in the Pfarrhaus gar¬ 
den. The building in the background 
with that high, arched entrance was the 
fire-engine house. I recall only two fires 
in our village when the engine had to be 
called out. Each time my father sat in 
front with the driver. I shall never for¬ 
get how the blazes flared up when the fire 


IN. SWITZERLAND 


37 


reached those wonderful feather beds, two 
enormous ones, with bolsters and huge 
pillows on every bedstead. 

But to return to the picture: the one- 
story building in the foreground was our 
community wash-house. The Swiss of 
those days had more regard for utility 
than for appearance, and that squatty 
structure was made to face the main road 
right there in front of the churchyard and 
the Pfarrhaus, because the brook went by 
there, making it handy to get water. 
That brook then turned a right angle and 
passed between our house and the garden. 

It was a wide and rapidly flowing 
brook, inclosed in stone masonry, the 
water clear as crystal, coming, no doubt, 
from the adjacent mountain, the “ Ho- 
brig.” A plank served as bridge between 
our house and garden, and immediately 
beyond the garden was our orchard. 
Farther on was the property of neighbor 
Jacques, and oh, the times I fell off that 
plank when pursued by him! Fortu- 


38 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


nately there were some steps in the ma¬ 
sonry right there, leading down to the 
water’s edge, so I could always help my¬ 
self out of the difficulty; and by the time 
I again reached dry land my pursuer was 
always out of sight. 

My Uncle Hans-Heiri had been the 
drummer of the village band, and I re¬ 
member how he used to toss and whirl 
those drumsticks. He was often called 
to play at the feasts and reunions which 
formed so prominent a part in the social 
and military life of the Swiss. Small as 
it is, Switzerland has a standing army of 
250,000 able-bodied and trained soldiers; 
but they live in their homes, except dur¬ 
ing the few weeks a year which they spend 
at a garrison to be instructed in military 
tactics. They are great for holding 
shooting-matches, when all the young 
men who are under military training meet 
and have target practice. 

Uncle Hans-Heiri never failed to bring 
me something nice on returning from his 


IN SWITZERLAND 


39 


trips. I believe it was he who gave me 
that boy-doll. At the time of his death I 
was too young to realize my loss. Later, 
on listening to conversations between my 
father and his friends I learned what a 
fine young man he had been. In those 
days I used often to get up on a bench 
that lined the wall in the living-room and 
look at a wreath of flowers and leaves and 
buds that were made out of Uncle Hans- 
Heiri’s hair and mounted in a frame un¬ 
der glass. Then I used to cry because 
he was gone. From what I learned later, 
Uncle Hans-Heiri had been a soldier. I 
do remember that whenever he went away 
with hi3 drum he was in uniform and 
wore a tall chapeau with chin-strap, and 
carried a knapsack. 

When up on that bench, for want of 
better amusement, I used also to look at 
the baptismal certificates that hung on the 
wall. Mine had a special interest to me 
because on it was a picture of a hand¬ 
somely dressed lady holding a baby in 


40 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


front of a baptismal font and Herr Pfar- 
rer baptizing it. I always imagined I 
was the baby cuddled in those flowing 
white robes. As I grew older, I loved to 
read the verses under the picture. I must 
have read them many times, for to my 
great astonishment I can now recall the 
first of the four verses. Liberally trans¬ 
lated, it is this: 

An inexpressible blessing comes to you 
through baptism. It dedicates you as a 
child of God; therefore, be ever piously 
minded. 

A short time after Uncle Hans-Heiri’s 
death, Grandfather died also. Then after 
another while my new mother came, and 
our Greta took a long vacation. 

With that new regime in our home 
there came more happiness into my child¬ 
hood. About that time I took a notion 
that I wanted my hair braided, as the 
older girls had it, and Mother consented. 
She also bought me a net with a ribbon 


IN SWITZERLAND 


41 


ruche across the crown. But my friends 
all disliked the braids, and I soon went 
back to curls. 

Up to that time I had always slept with 
Greta; but Mother brought among her 
dower a little walnut bedstead—for me. 
It was just long enough to stand at the 
foot of her bed without projecting at 
either side. I was very proud to have 
my own little bed for the first time in my 
memory, and that doll which I received 
on the wedding day had to sleep with 
me. 

I remember how happy it made me 
when Mother stroked my cheeks in her 
affectionate way and smoothed my hair. 
I liked to be in the kitchen when she was 
cooking meals, and chat with her. I sus¬ 
pect that at such times I used to boast, as 
children will, of things I intended to do 
when I should be a grown-up. I remem¬ 
ber hearing her tell little incidents of this 
kind. One that has lodged in my mem¬ 
ory is her telling Aunt Verena that I had 


42 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


said that when I got big all she would 
have to do would be to help me. 

I do not recall ever seeing Greta or 
any one else winding up our big station¬ 
ary clock, but it is one of the first things I 
remember seeing Mother do. It became 
my ambition to be tall enough so that I 
could reach and pull down those stone 
weights, and set the hands. 

About this time I began to do little 
chores around the house, such as bringing 
wood into the kitchen and carrying water 
from the village fountain. I had a tiny 
copper gelte about the size of a wash¬ 
bowl, and I always went with Mother to 
the fountain and carried some water 
home. The village housewives washed 
all such vegetables as lettuce, and spinach 
and chard at the fountain, each always 
using two geltes so as to change from one 
to the other. This sometimes made it 
rather crowded, and often the women got 
in each other’s way. I remember once 
seeing one shove her neighbor’s gelte full 


IN SWITZERLAND 


43 


of spinach off the trough. The spinach 
lay there until evening when the cattle 
came to water and ate it. One of those 
women was Barbara, the seamstress, and 
the other her sister-in-law. After that 
they were no longer friends. 

I still had another grandfather, but he 
lived a long way off; at least so it seemed 
to me, because we had to go there on foot 
and it was a two-hour journey. My fa¬ 
ther always took me there at least once a 
year, and at Grandfather’s some of my 
happiest young days were spent. That 
will make a chapter all by itself. 


CHAPTER IV 

AT GRANDFATHER^ 

The river Rhine is the northern bound¬ 
ary of all but a small part of Switzer¬ 
land. In that small part is the so-called 
Rafzerfeld — meaning Field of Rafz. 
That was where my other grandfather 
lived, in the hamlet of Buchenloo. 

To go there, we went first to Rhine- 
felden, where we crossed the Rhine in a 
rowboat. Then we walked through a 
dense forest, in which there was only a 
foot-path. I can remember hearing 
“ Ku-Ku” as we went through the woods, 
exactly as you hear it in the cuckoo clocks. 
I never saw the bird; he kept himself so 
well hidden. Then followed a wagon 
road, and along there somewhere we al¬ 
ways stopped at an inn for refreshments. 

Long before we reached Grandfather’s 

44 


IN SWITZERLAND 


45 


home, Father would point out different 
parcels of land and say, “ Here is Grand¬ 
father’s rye, there is his wheat acre, and 
yonder his meadow.” When we got to 
a big orchard we knew we were near 
Grandfather’s house; but we couldn’t see 
it until we got close to it, there were so 
many big trees. 

With Grandfather lived my uncles, 
Ulrich and Solomon, and their wives, 
Ursula and Judith. There was also an¬ 
other Uncle Hans there, and he was un¬ 
married. Grandfather built an addition 
to his house when his sons were married, 
so they could live at home with him. Un¬ 
cles Ulrich and Hans were farmers and 
helped till the land. Uncle Solomon 
was a shoemaker and had his shop at 
home. 

A shoemaker’s shop is usually a rather 
dull place, but Uncle Solomon’s was dif¬ 
ferent. He usually had some growing 
plants in his window, and on his work¬ 
bench was Hanseli, the canary. There 


46 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


was always music in that shop, for when 
Hanseli did not sing, Uncle Solomon did. 
Sometimes both sang together. Beside 
his regular food, every day at noon Han¬ 
seli was given two hemp seeds. He 
seemed to know when the time came, and 
if Uncle forgot to give them to him, Han¬ 
seli reminded him of it by loud chirping 
and by climbing on the side of the cage. 
Every morning Hanseli had a bath, and 
after that he was given his liberty in the 
shop for a little while. But he usually 
returned of his own accord to the cage 
after flitting about the vines and plants. 
Grandfather always ordered some new 
shoes for me; but I didn’t like Uncle 
Solomon’s shoes because they wouldn’t 
squeak like store shoes. 

Grandfather also always ordered a new 
dress for me. I was permitted to go to 
the store in Rafz with him or one of the 
aunts, and select the goods myself. Then 
he told the seamstress to make it just as I 
wanted it. Here at Grandfather’s it was 


IN SWITZERLAND 


47 


that I got my first two-piece dress, a skirt 
and a zouave jacket. 

Those dresses were for Sunday, of 
course; but one of them came to a sad end. 
I remember it perfectly; it was black and 
green irregularly striped, something like 
a rag carpet pattern. One Sunday I was 
looking for walnuts. As usual Jacques 
chased me, and I didn’t see him until he 
was very close to me. In my confusion I 
ran so fast that I stepped on the edge of 
a lime-pit and my dress became spattered 
all along the hem with white streaks. I 
feared a scolding at home; but as it was 
already late afternoon, time to change my 
best Sunday dress for the second best, I 
went home and quietly up to my room. 
There I put on my second best, and put 
the spattered one away back in the ward¬ 
robe. When I came down-stairs, Mother 
remarked how good I was that day to 
take off my new dress without crying. 

All that week I wondered what I 
should do when next Sunday came. For- 


48 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


tunately it rained that Sunday, so I had 
a good excuse for holding up my dress on 
going to and from Sunday School, and I 
carefully turned in the hem. When I 
came home dinner was ready and I sat 
right down to the table. After dinner I 
knelt in front of a chair with a picture- 
book, and very early in the afternoon I 
went up-stairs to change dresses. Again 
I was praised for having become so obedi¬ 
ent. The third Sunday it did not rain, 
and my spoiled dress was noticed; but I 
got off easier than I had expected. Every 
Sunday after that until Christmas, when 
I got a new one, I had to wear that dress 
to Sunday School. In our prim village 
that was considered a terrible disgrace. 
Everything had to be immaculate when 
we went to God’s house. 

Grandfather had also had two daugh¬ 
ters, each of whom died in young woman¬ 
hood and left a baby girl. Cousin Eliza¬ 
beth was one, and I the other. “ Lise- 
beteli ” was her pet name, just as Betty 


IN SWITZERLAND 


49 


would be here. She lived in the village of 
Wyl, about a half-hour from Buchenloo, 
and separated by a dense forest. My 
godmother lived there, too. Once when 
Grandfather and I were visiting at my 
godmother’s, I was climbing up on his 
knee just as he was taking a pinch of 
snuff. A tiny speck fell into one of my 
eyes. It was terribly painful, and I shall 
never forget what a commotion there was 
in the house. When the doctor came, he 
could find nothing in my eye. I had 
cried so much, he said, the tears had 
washed it all away. 

Grandfather always wanted Cousin 
Lisebeteli and me to visit him at the same 
time; but she was much older than I and 
could not often come. I recall only one 
visit where she was present. She was 
then dressed like a big girl, with her hair 
braided and coiled at the back of the head 
around an 44 arrow,” as a girl’s hair orna¬ 
ment was called. She never wore the 
Rafzerfeld costume, because she wanted 


50 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


to be a city girl. The last time I saw her 
she wore long dresses and a “ waterfall,” 
as a lady’s false hair was then called, when 
I was still in short dresses and had my 
hair done in curls. And she was married 
and went with her husband to Australia 
when I was still a schoolgirl. At Grand¬ 
father’s I learned to like bonny-clabber, 
which is just plain sour milk congealed 
into a solid mass. When my uncles and 
their helpers and the aunts sat down to 
their nine-o’clock lunch of bread and wine, 
Grandfather would order a crock of clab¬ 
ber. Then with his spoon he would draw 
a line across the middle of it; one-half was 
mine, the other half his, and the game was 
to see which could keep his side longest 
from caving in. It was a real game of 
skill, at which I was always the winner. 
But I believe now that Grandfather al¬ 
ways purposely made his side cave in first. 

While I was still very young, before I 
had my new mother, our Frau Pfarrer 
taught me some little prayers. Grand- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


51 


father wanted me to recite them for him 
and for the rest of the family; but I was 
bashful and refused to do it. One day 
after dinner Grandfather went to bed and 
they all said that he was sick; but that 
they believed if I would pray for him he 
would get well. I went behind a curtain 
and repeated a prayer, and immediately 
Grandfather was up again. 

A lady in our village who had come 
from Buchenloo and had known my 
mother as a girl, used always to say when¬ 
ever she met me, “ Child, when I see you 
it seems as though I saw your mother.” 
This one day set me to wishing that I 
might see just how my mother had looked, 
and I questioned my friend about it. She 
gave me a picture of a lady dressed in 
the picturesque Rafzerfeld costume, and 
said it looked just like my mother. I 
have ever since treasured it as my own 
dear mother’s picture. 

The only thing that ever belonged to 
my mother that was saved for me is a 


52 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


chain that she used to wear on her corsage, 
like the lady in the picture. I am sure 
that Grandfather was just the kind of a 
man that would give his daughters almost 
anything they wanted. After I got to be 
older I used often to wonder why more of 
those pretty things that my mother must 
have had were not saved for me. 

Those days that I spent at Grandfa¬ 
ther’s were the red-letter days of my life. 
I rode on the biggest loads of hay, and 
whenever there was a “ chutcheli,” as we 
called a baby calf, it was my special pet. 
Grandfather never had goats, so I had no 
“ gitzeli ” there to play with. Even in 
midsummer, when everybody was busy, 
Grandfather found time to take me for 
walks. He never tired of answering my 
questions, and he always listened when I 
wanted to talk. Once on the way to 
Rafz, where we sometimes went to have 
a good meal at the inn, I saw for the first 
time a telegraph wire. I asked Grand¬ 
father if the women there were so tall that 


IN SWITZERLAND 


53 


they could hang clothes on it. He ex¬ 
plained to me that that wire was no 
clothes-line; that on it a man in Zurich 
could talk to a man away down in Basel. 
My childish imagination at once pictured 
a man in Zurich climbing a pole and 
shouting his message along the wire to 
another man on top of a pole in Basel, 
listening. 

Grandfather was a great friend of ani¬ 
mals, and he was such a lover of birds that 
he was known as “ der vogeli,” which 
means the bird-man. Often during our 
walks along the Rhine he called my atten¬ 
tion to a bird that would start up from the 
ground singing, and keep on singing until 
he was out of sight. It was the skylark. 
Among Grandfather’s favorite birds were 
the woodpeckers that visited his orchards. 
I remember one beautiful green fellow 
with red head and long bill. And years 
afterward in America when I became ac¬ 
quainted with our downy and hairy wood¬ 
peckers, they reminded me of a bird simi- 


54 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


lar to them but much larger, that I had 
known on Grandfather’s place. Under 
the eaves of the house and barns there 
were always swallow nests. It was con¬ 
sidered good luck to have those birds as 
guests and neighbors. They were wel¬ 
comed as eagerly as the storks. On a 
chimney that was never used in the sum¬ 
mer-time Grandfather had fastened a 
wagon-wheel and on this the storks made 
their nest every spring. This was the 
only stork nest in Buchenloo. Usually 
there is but one stork nest in a village. 
Weiach never had storks, and I suppose 
it is because no one there put up a wheel 
nor any foundation for a stork nest. 

In the springtime when the storks ar¬ 
rived it was a joyful event in the whole 
village. The poet Hebei describes it in 
the Swiss dialect, which was the language 
spoken in our part of the country. Once 
when Grandfather and I were on a walk 
the storks were flying about, and he re¬ 
cited this poem to them: 



The Stokks .—Page 54. 

The return of the storks in the spring is an event in a 

Swiss village. 









IN SWITZERLAND 


55 


“Willkumm Herr Storch! Bisch au scho do? 
Und schmeksch im Weiher d’Frosche scho? 
Und meinsch de Winter hei si Sach 
Und’s bessere Wetter chom alsgmach? 

“Nei, loset wiener walsche cha: 

Versteht mer au a Wortli dra? 

Drum chunt er iiber Strom und Meer 
Us witte fronde Landere her. 

“S’isch gnueg, Herr Storch, mer wiisse’s scho, 
Und was du seisch mer glaubet’s jo: 

Es freut di au dass’s Dorf no stoht 
Und alles gsund isch, danki Gott! ” 

Liberally translated and somewhat ab¬ 
breviated this would be: 

Welcome, Mr. Stork, you here again? 
And do you already smell the frogs in 
the pond? And do you think the win¬ 
ter’s gone and good weather coming? 
Listen how he chatters. Can any one 
understand a word of it? Enough said, 
Mr. Stork, we know it all and we believe 
all you say; you are glad to find the vil¬ 
lage still here and everybody well, thank 
God. 

I think I never saw trees so loaded 


56 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


with fruit as at Grandfather’s. There 
were plums, prunelles, cherries, apples, 
pears, etc. I remember seeing him stoop 
to evade the branches even after they had 
been propped with strong poles. A por¬ 
tion was always left in the tree-tops for 
his “ partners,” as he called the birds. 

There were also acres upon acres of 
vineyards, every vine carefully tied to a 
strong post. Always in early spring my 
aunts went to the vineyard every pleasant 
day with moistened straws, carrying them 
in the apron, which was fastened to the 
apron band at the waist, making a big 
pocket. With these straws they tied the 
new shoots, and this seemed to be strictly 
women’s work. I never saw men do it. 
I suppose those tender shoots required 
gentle handling. When I used to go 
along with my aunts I carried their lunch 
in a kriitze,” which is a basket with 
straps so it can be carried on the back. 
These kriitzes were made all sizes, like the 
geltes, to fit young and old. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


57 


In Weiach the women and girls filled 
their leisure moments with knitting and 
crocheting. In the Rafzerfeld they did 
straw braiding, always using four strands 
and over. I never saw my aunts do it, 
because they always had so much else to 
do for the big family. But sometimes 
ladies came to visit them, carrying bun¬ 
dles of straw in their aprons. In a tube¬ 
like little pail, which they had tied to the 
apron band, they had water in which they 
dipped the straws before they braided 
them. Children learned there to braid 
straw as early as we children learned to 
knit. It was marvelous how rapidly their 
fingers moved, twisting the straws in and 
out, every little while taking a fresh one; 
and how fast the finished golden braid 
lengthened into yards.—I ought to say 
“ ells,” for that was the unit of measuring 
dry-goods before the metric system was 
adopted. Some of those braids were at 
once made into hats, over a wooden form. 
But many bolts of the braided straw 


58 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


found their way to other countries. Here 
they are known as the “rough and ready.” 

When the time came for me to go home 
again, Grandfather and the uncles always 
showered me with coins—francs and half¬ 
francs. In my day a franc was worth 
about twenty cents in American money. 
All my money went religiously into the 
bank, and I do not remember withdraw¬ 
ing any of my savings until the time came 
when we left for America. 

In order to get me home again my fa¬ 
ther usually came to Eglisau, where 
Grandfather or one of the uncles would 
take me to meet him. Then we didn’t 
cross the Rhine in a rowboat, but on a 
bridge. The distance was a little greater, 
two hours as they measured it in those 
days. It would be about six miles ac¬ 
cording to our reckoning, and I walked 
that distance as far as I could, then for 
spells Father would carry me on his back. 
Since the adoption of the metric system 
in Switzerland it is called about nine and 


IN SWITZERLAND 


59 


a half kilometers. A kilometer is five- 
eighths of a mile. Now the Swiss Fed¬ 
eral Railroad passes close by Buchenloo 
and crosses the Rhine at Eglisau. 

By the way, the Swiss Federal Rail¬ 
road has a branch office at 241 Fifth Ave¬ 
nue, New York City, where prospective 
tourists in Switzerland can get valuable 
information concerning the country and 
its people. 


CHAPTER V 


AMERICA AND SWITZERLAND 

America is so vast and Switzerland so 
small (only about half as large as Ohio) 
that if the two countries could be placed 
side by side on a map, one would be a 
giant and the other a pigmy. 

But Switzerland is said to be the most 
“ written-up ” country in the world. The 
first Baedeker guide-book was on Swit¬ 
zerland. Any one desiring to know more 
of the interesting history, folk-lore, leg¬ 
ends, literature, etc., anything whatever 
about this small country, needs only to 
inquire at some up-to-date library. In 
the general index of the Philadelphia 
Free Library recently I counted over 
eighty, and in the Cleveland Public Li¬ 
brary over seventy cards on Switzerland; 
and there were many more cards in spe¬ 
cial catalogues. 


60 


IN SWITZERLAND 


61 


Switzerland has been called the play¬ 
ground of Europe. It may be that to 
tourists. To the Swiss themselves it is 
a humming, buzzing workshop. But they 
are so endowed with love for work and 
enjoyment of it that historians call it a 
national trait. Personally I cannot con¬ 
ceive of a state of happiness with work 
eliminated. I have always found my 
highest enjoyment in some sort of work, 
or the results of work. No true Swiss 
will ever be a slave, if to be that means to 
work unwillingly, joylessly. 

Switzerland attracts the world because 
of its romantic setting, its natural won¬ 
ders, and its antiquity, all concentrated 
within a paltry 16,000 square miles. Our 
United States is even more richly en¬ 
dowed with natural wonders and impos¬ 
ing scenery. Has any other country in 
the world such national parks, canyons, 
chains of lakes, vast plains, as our dear 
America? The slogan “America First ” 
is one of the good things that came to us 


62 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


out of the World War. Lake Mohonk in 
New York State is Switzerland in minia¬ 
ture. Even the little lake there on Sky- 
top simulates lakes on Swiss mountains 
which, as legend has it, are fed by the 
tears of the wandering Jew as he is said 
to visit those solitudes. 

But as a rule our American show places 
are on such a gigantic scale that one has 
to travel great distances to see them, 
while the Swiss wonderworld is like a 
crammed toy-shop. Good roads, modern 
modes of travel, excellent hostelries, and 
cheerful people add greatly to the enjoy¬ 
ment of tourists and entice them to come 
again and again. 

More than five hundred j^ears ago 
Switzerland began to be a republic. 
There are only two older republics in the 
world: San Marino in Italy and Andorra 
in the Pyrenees. To be exact, however, 
Switzerland has 15,990 square miles; but 
more than a third of this area consists of 
mountains, rivers, lakes and glaciers. A 


IN SWITZERLAND 


63 


glacier is a river of ice which moves so 
slowly that the movement is impercepti¬ 
ble. In my school days we called the 
population of Switzerland 3 , 000 , 000 ; 
now it is nearly 4 , 000 , 000 . After the 
close of the World War there was rumor 
that the Tyrol, a very picturesque Aus¬ 
trian province, wished to be annexed; but 
Switzerland is a good deal like the United 
States in that it has ambition only to be¬ 
come better, not larger. 

The republic began with eight states, 
called Cantons; now there are twenty- 
two. There is a beautiful poem about 
this by Adalbert von Chamisso in which 
he likens the twenty-two Cantons to so 
many brothers sitting in a great arched 
hall and singing joyous songs which echo 
and reecho throughout the domain. 

Probably no other country in the world 
the size of Switzerland has four lan¬ 
guages used within its boundaries. The 
Swiss dialect is only a sort of folk lan¬ 
guage. Other languages used are the 


64 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


French, Italian, and Romansch. Ger¬ 
man is used only in literature. In my 
days the German script was used in writ¬ 
ing; but that has been discarded and the 
Latin script is used exclusively. 

The Swiss are great linguists and 
many foreign words have crept into their 
everyday speech. For instance my small 
handkerchiefs were called “ Fazenateli,” 
my dress was a “ Juppe.” These words 
are from the Italian “ fazoletto ” and 
“giuppe.” As to French, the name 
“ Jacques ” is French for Jacob, “Henri” 
for Henry, “Jean” for John. When I 
was expected to do anything very quickly 
I was told to “ allay tootswit,” an apart¬ 
ment was called a “ loshee,” Father’s shop 
was a “ booteek.” To be correct, these 
terms are “ allez tout de suite,” “ logis,” 
and “ boutique,” respectively. 

Such a babel of languages might be ex¬ 
pected in a country so small, and yet 
inhabited by divers people. Before 
the Christian era the territory now known 


IN SWITZERLAND 


65 


as Switzerland was overrun in turn by 
wandering tribes, one of which was the 
Gallic tribe known as Helvetii. In his 
Commentaries on the Gallic wars Csesar 
says of the Helvetii that they were 
“ braver than the other Gauls.” Of each 
of these tribes, doubtless, a remnant was 
left behind as they marched on, and these 
remnants helped to make up the present 
complex population, which has now lived 
in beautiful harmony for nearly a cen¬ 
tury. 

My home village of Weiach was in the 
Canton Zurich, one of the original eight. 
The history of Zurich is so ancient and so 
voluminous that it sums up in a way the 
history of all Switzerland. It is in the 
city and canton of Zurich that my story 
is largely centered. 

The city of Zurich is the metropolis of 
Switzerland. In Baedeker’s “ Switzer¬ 
land ” ten pages are devoted to Zurich, 
and only eight and a half to Berne, the 
capital of the Republic. The city of Zii- 


66 WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 

rich has 200,000 inhabitants and boasts 
of three hundred and twenty-eight beau¬ 
tiful public fountains—one to about 
every sixty inhabitants. These fountains 
are fed by springs and never go dry. 

Zurich is a city of churches, some of 
which were built before the Middle Ages 
and are still regularly used as places of 
worship. Other of these ancient edifices 
have been used as libraries and museums. 
But Zurich has now a modern library and 
an art museum in which all these treasures 
of art and literature have been gathered. 

Zurich is a delightful place for tourists 
of the studious sort. These will find 
much to interest them in the modern na¬ 
tional museum where the whole history of 
Switzerland and especially of Zurich, 
from earliest, even prehistoric, times, is 
an open book. Baedeker enumerates the 
many points of interest in this ancient 
city of which the so-called old-town is most 
primitive. The new-town tries hard to be 
modern, and is doing away with some old 


IN SWITZERLAND 


67 


landmarks which it would do well to con¬ 
serve. Of special interest to educators 
must be the Pestalozzianum. There, dur¬ 
ing a visit to Zurich, I met one morning 
an American school teacher attracted by 
the rare Pestalozziana found in that 
museum. Then while passing the Ruden 
on my way homeward I observed a 
Japanese gentleman, note-book and pen¬ 
cil in hand, taking notes in front of 
Pestalozzi’s birthplace. 

Zurich also attracts tourists who desire 
to do some but not the most austere 
mountain-climbing, the neighboring Uet- 
liberg being comparatively easy to as¬ 
cend. There is also a railroad for those 
who prefer the easiest way. Excellent 
hotels and a charming view of the Alps 
are to be enjoyed at the top. There are 
times when Zurich is enveloped in mist, 
while on the Uetliberg plateau it is per¬ 
fectly clear. On such days the tourist 
may see displayed in the city streets plac¬ 
ards which, if he does not understand 


68 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


the language, may shock him. “ Uetli- 
berg hell ” is one such placard, and it 
simply means that up on the Uetliberg 
plateau it is light or clear. Another in¬ 
stance where I have heard the word used 
was during one of my visits to a restau¬ 
rant where I ordered a cup of coffee. 
The waitress came with a pot of coffee in 
one hand and a pitcher of steaming milk 
in the other. “ Hell? ” she said, giving 
me a questioning glance. She was merely 
inquiring as to whether I wanted my 
coffee light, that is, with milk; or whether 
I wanted it black. 

The Swiss people express their love of 
country and of kindred largely through 
song. Even a village as small as Weiach 
with only a few hundred inhabitants had 
its female chorus, and its male chorus. 
One of the pleasantest memories of my 
home life as a child is the Sunday street 
singing. During Sunday afternoon the 
village maidens dressed in their pictur¬ 
esque costumes would form in a row that 


IN SWITZERLAND 


69 


blocked the public highway from side to 
side, and promenade back and forth 
through the village. Sometimes they 
sang in the daytime, but always soon 
after dark there would be the loveliest 
singing. Pretty soon the male chorus 
would be heard, and later it was a mixed 
chorus that continued far into the even¬ 
ing. 

When that singing ceased, the refrain 
was taken up by a lone troubador, the 
night watchman. At ten o’clock he 
started his rounds, armed with a long cane 
and sang out in Swiss: 

“Loset was i eu will sage! 

Die Glock bet Zehni gschlage. 

Jetzt betet und jetzt gond is Bett, 

Und wer a ruehig Gwisse het 

Schlaf sanft and wohl! Im Himmel wacht 

A heiter Aug die ganzi Nacht.” 

The eleven o’clock chant warned any who 
still prolonged merriment or worked over 
time, to desist: 


70 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


“Loset was i eu will sage 
Die Glock het ELfi gschlage 
Und were no a der Arbet schwitzt 
Und were no bi de Charte sitzt 
Dem biet i jetzt zum letzte Mai 
S ’isch hochi Zit—und schlafet wohl. ’ ’ 

And so the warning became more ur¬ 
gent every hour until three o’clock, the 
night watchman’s last call. Freely inter¬ 
preted these chanted warnings would be: 

1. Listen to what I tell you: the clock 
has struck ten. Now pray and go to bed, 
and whoever has a good conscience will 
sleep well. In heaven an eye watches 
throughout the night. 

2. Listen to what I tell you: the clock 
has struck eleven. Now whoever is still 
sweating at his work, or whoever yet may 
be playing cards, I tell you now for the 
last time—it’s high time, good-night. 

Now should the names which I shall 
mention as I proceed be looked up in 
some encyclopedia, much worth-while in¬ 
formation will be gained, and there will 
be surprises and thrills. Switzerland has 



IN SWITZERLAND 


71 


had some world-famous personages; only 
a few can be mentioned here: 

Jean Henri Dunant, founder of the 
Red Cross, in 1899 was awarded the 
Nobel prize for philanthropy. Angelica 
Kauffmann and Mary Moser, artists, were 
the first women to become members of the 
Royal Academy, a very high honor. 
Miss Kauffmann is included in some his¬ 
tories of German artists; but that is an 
error. She was born in the City of Chur 
in Switzerland, of Swiss parents. Other 
well-known artists are Arnold Bocklin 
and Ferdinand Hodler. Bocklin’s paint¬ 
ings are to be seen in the Boston Public 
Library. The scientists Louis Agassiz 
and Arnold Guyot were well known in 
this country, the former as lecturer, ex¬ 
plorer, and professor in Harvard, the lat¬ 
ter as professor in Princeton and author 
of a geography used in our public schools. 
Dr. Caspar Keller, an ancestor of Miss 
Helen Keller, formulated the system of 
oral speech for the deaf which is now in 


72 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


use everywhere. [Writers also known on 
this side of the Atlantic are Rousseau, 
Amiel, Dandliker, Spitteler, Johanna 
Spyri, and others. Carl Spitteler in 1920 
was awarded the Nobel prize for litera¬ 
ture. The Literary Digest for February 
20,1921, has a flattering article about him, 
and says that he combines great talent 
with fine character. Johanna Spyri is 
author of the well-known juvenile 
“ Heidi,” which has been translated into 
many languages, including English. 
The names Bodmer, Breitinger, Pesta- 
lozzi, Tschudi and Kriisi, loom big as those 
of educators. Herman Kriisi, Jr., a son 
of the original Kriisi who was a pupil of 
Pestalozzi and co-worker with him, was 
for twenty-five years principal of the Os¬ 
wego, N. Y., Normal School. Zwingli 
and Lavater are well known as divines, 
Tell and Winkelried as heroes and pa¬ 
triots, Necker and Gallatin as diplomats 
and financiers. Albert Gallatin, who be¬ 
came an American citizen during our 


IN SWITZERLAND 


73 


revolutionary period, was friend and co¬ 
worker with Washington, Adams, Jeffer¬ 
son, Madison, and other early American 
patriots. He was Secretary of the Treas¬ 
ury from 1801 to 1813, and was the chief 
negotiator of the Treaty of Ghent, which 
ended our wars with England. In youth 
as an immigrant in this country, he knew 
hardships and privations, but the experi¬ 
ence apparently did not daunt him. One 
of his biographers credits him with saying 
that who has not ability to endure adverse 
circumstances, and to turn them to good 
account, has not the elements of success in 
him. Mrs. Grace Gallatin Seton, wife of 
the naturalist, Ernest Thompson Seton, is 
a descendant of Mr. Albert Gallatin. 
There are Gallatins of this family also in 
New York. 

In the early part of the nineteenth cen¬ 
tury Switzerland was torn with internal 
religious warfare. The Catholics of sev¬ 
eral cantons, feeling themselves ag¬ 
grieved, formed a separate league similar 


74 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


to the Southern Confederacy in this 
country, and moved to secede. But 
finally the warring factions were re¬ 
united, and General Dufour, who ef¬ 
fected the reunion, is known as the Swiss 
“ General Grant.” 

Switzerland has great universities: 
Geneva, Basel, Berne, Freiburg, Zurich. 
Some of these were among the first in the 
world to admit women, and student life is 
one of the noteworthy features of these 
cities. 

The elementary school system, which in 
my days left much to be desired, is now 
acknowledged to be among the best in the 
world. In fact one historian calls the 
Swiss “ education-crazy.” According to 
the census of 1911, illiteracy in Switzer¬ 
land is only 0.3 per cent., and this is above 
standing army age. School attendance is 
strictly compulsory, and this law is rigidly 
enforced. 

My native country is and ever will be 
dear to me; but equally dear is America, 


IN SWITZERLAND 


75 


now my home-land by adoption. In any 
period of stress such as there was during 
the World War I would be loyal to the 
country to which I pledged my allegiance 
when I became a naturalized citizen of 
the United States of America. Even 
were I not a citizen, but earning my liv¬ 
ing here, I would feel that I owed loyalty 
and service to the country under whose 
protection I have my living on equal 
terms with any native-born citizen. 

While on this subject, however, permit 
me to say that I am several times an 
American citizen. In the first place my 
father was naturalized before I was of 
legal age. Then I married an American. 
When the school suffrage was granted 
to Ohio women I had myself naturalized, 
not knowing that already I was twice a 
citizen. Furthermore, the first time I 
visited Switzerland I became homesick 
for America, although my son, my only 
natural tie to America, accompanied me. 
We were both homesick. One day, weary 


76 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


from travel and sightseeing, we saw a 
wagon-load of White sewing-machines 
and one of Cleveland bicycles, and oh, 
how the sight of those things American 
braced our languishing spirits! 


CHAPTER VI 


A BABY BROTHER 

When I was about five years old a 
baby brother came into our family. All 
my playmates had sisters, and I thought 
it was just lovely to have some one you 
could call sister; so I was much disap¬ 
pointed when told that I had a brother. 
What made it worse, he was baptized 
Jacques, a name I never did like, and my 
little bed had to be moved up to Greta’s 
room in order to make place for baby’s 
cradle. 

It was a time-honored custom in our 
village to rock a baby during its every 
waking moment. They also gave to ba¬ 
bies a food known here as pap. It is 
made of finest ground rice and wheat 

meal, boiled, and seasoned with sugar 

77 


78 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


and cream. A Swiss child is as eager to 
scrape out a pap pan as an American 
child is to scrape out a bowl in which cake 
has been mixed. 

After my brother came, to rock the 
cradle was my steady job. As a reward 
I was permitted to scrape out the daily 
pap pan. 

For a long time I never saw my broth¬ 
er’s hands nor feet. They were held in 
with bandages in which he was laced from 
chin to toes, like an Indian papoose. 
When Mother wished to take him up she 
put one finger under his chin and raised 
him a little, then put the other hand un¬ 
der his back and lifted him. I used to 
wonder whether they had ever tied me up 
like that. 

At first our baby slept nearly all the 
time. As he grew older he lay awake 
longer, and if he cried I had to rock his 
cradle. About this time Aunt Verena 
taught me a little verse in the Swiss lan¬ 
guage: 


IN SWITZERLAND 


79 


“De Vatter het gseid i sell’s Chindli go wiege, 
Er well mer drii Eier im Anke go slide; 

Do slit er mer drii nnd isset mer zwei, 

Welle Guggich wet wiege um en einziges Ei?” 

That is to say: “ Father told me to rock 
the baby, that he would cook me three 
eggs in butter; that he cooked three, and 
ate two himself, which Cuckoo would 
rock baby for just one egg? ” 

But for all my rockings I never got 
even the one egg. One day I was called 
in from play, just when it was most ex¬ 
citing, and as I unwillingly rocked that 
cradle I got to thinking of all the other 
babies in the village,—and of all those 
pap pans. There were babies in the 
homes of several of my aunts, of the Frau 
Pfarrer, Nenna the silk-weaver, Bar¬ 
bara the seamstress, and of the scrub¬ 
woman, yes, and the family that used to 
live up-stairs in the poorhouse had twins. 
Probably all of those pap pans would be 
mine for the mere asking. 

As soon as baby brother was asleep 



4 



80 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


again I started out to see my old-time 
friends. All were glad to see me, because 
I hadn’t been there in some time. I 
started with the Frau Pfarrer and asked 
her to please not put the pap pan to soak 
the next time she made pap, but to let it 
stand until I would come around and 
scrape it out. 

Yes, she certainly would keep it for 
me. 

Of course, I promised to rock the cra¬ 
dle for a while, should the baby be awake. 
I made the same request of my aunts, and 
all my other friends except the poorhouse 
family—they had children of their own. 
And they all promised to do as I asked 
them to. 

The next day I went on my first round. 
Almost everywhere the baby happened to 
be asleep when I called, so I didn’t have 
to rock the cradle. I could skip quickly 
from one place to the next, and I just 
reveled in the delicious sticky substance 
that was left in those pap pans. My old- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


81 


time visiting habit was being revived. 
Again Father had to go hunting for me at 
meal-times. But this time there did not 
happen to be among my friends a young 
lady with whom he liked to have a visit, 
and he was not as pleasant about it as he 
had been at other times. I was punished 
by being sent supperless to bed; but 
Father usually relented and brought some 
bread and milk to my room. 

After my brother was old enough to 
walk, Mother went to attend the wedding 
of a cousin. It was one of those weddings 
where the festivities are kept up for sev¬ 
eral days. Greta was left in charge of us 
children, and baby brother cried a great 
deal. I had to amuse him, rock him, and 
wheel him around until I got heartily 
tired of it. Finally I played truant and 
went on one of my old rounds of visits. 

When I returned, Greta was very 
angry with me. She said if I wouldn’t be 
good and help take care of my baby 
brother I couldn’t live at home any 


82 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


longer. Greta had been with us so long 
that she was like one of the family, and 
her word was law. In my innocent child¬ 
like way I believed every word she said, in 
fact everything that any one said. Chil¬ 
dren do, and oh, what agonies they often 
suffer as the result of some threat that 
was never meant to be carried out! 

I had seen ragged children begging 
from door to door. In those days street 
begging was still tolerated in Switzer¬ 
land. Now, as I have heard, it is for¬ 
bidden by law. I thought that now I, 
too, would be a beggar child, unless some 
friend or aunt would take me in. I 
waited around a while hoping Greta 
would change her mind, or that Mother 
would come home. It was already late in 
the afternoon; I wondered where I would 
sleep that night. Finally, all hope aban¬ 
doned, I went to my room; I remember 
with what a heavy heart. 

In one of my pinafores I gathered a 
few things and went slowly down the 


IN SWITZERLAND 


83 


stairs, and out of the house. Outside of 
the door I hesitated again, still hoping 
that Greta would change her mind and 
forgive me. I can now see myself with 
that little bundle of belongings, stopping 
there to turn over in my mind where I 
would go. Should it be to Aunt Eliza¬ 
beth at the post-office or Aunt Elizabeth 
at the bakery? Or should it be Nenna the 
silk-weaver or the Frau Pfarrer? I 
couldn’t think of going to Barbara’s be¬ 
cause that thatched straw roof made her 
house so gloomy. The scrub-woman was 
poor, I didn’t consider her at all; nor the 
poorhouse people. Strange to say, I 
couldn’t make up my mind to go to any 
of the aunts or friends I had been so much 
in the habit of visiting. It must be I had 
become satiated with pap and tired of ba¬ 
bies. I finally resolved to go to Aunt 
Verena’s, where there were only grown¬ 
ups and where there were the silk looms 
in that prettily papered room. I started 
to go, but presently the door opened and 


84 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


Greta called me back. She would forgive 
me, she said. 

Up to that time I had cherished a child¬ 
ish love for Greta, but somehow after that 
I never felt quite the same toward her. I 
believe that mentally I aged some years 
during that period of suspense, distrac¬ 
tion, and terror. 

One day about that time Marie Pilger 
came to get me to attend the fair in 
Kaiserstuhl. But on the next day I was 
taken with a strange crying spell, and 
Marie had to bring me home. When 
Mother saw me she took me in her arms 
and said, “ The child is homesick.” Im¬ 
mediately the crying spell was over. 
That was my first experience of home¬ 
sickness. 

As I have scanned memory in trying to 
recall events of those early days it has 
seemed strange to me that I do not re¬ 
member more about animal pets, such as 
cats and dogs. I recall that at times we 
had white rabbits in the stable, and they 


IN SWITZERLAND 


85 


made me cringe with fear for they were 
always near the horses’ feet. We had a 
little black dog “ Fido ” of which brother 
and I were very fond. Sometimes when 
Greta tried to scare us into being good 
she would say, “ I’ll give Fido to Felix.” 
44 Felix ” was a character in our village 
who went about with a burlap bag tossed 
over his shoulder, and who was said to 
collect dogs for their skins. Whenever 
brother or I saw him, we hid our pet for 
the rest of the day. One day our Fido 
disappeared, and after that we always 
looked with suspicion on Felix. 

As time went on and my brother be¬ 
came more like a playfellow, I loved to 
take him out for walks, and I came to re¬ 
gard him with a true sisterly love. The 
older he grew, the more we enjoyed each 
other. 


CHAPTER VII 


PESTALOZZI AND SCHOOL-DAYS 

Late in the eighteenth century and 
early in the nineteenth Switzerland had 
one of the famous educators of all time 
in the person of Father Pestalozzi, as his 
countrymen fondly call him. 

Pestalozzi was not a man of means, 
only of genius. In his days education 
was for the few favored ones. He an¬ 
nounced the great democratic principle 
that education was for the masses, and 
that not only was it their God-given 
right, but that it should be forced upon 
them. Instead of merely teaching the 
three R’s: reading, ’riting and Tithmetic, 
he said we must cultivate the three H’s: 
head, heart, and hand, and it was he who 

first introduced manual training into 

86 


IN SWITZERLAND 


87 


schools. He was ahead of his time; school 
boards looked askance at him. To dem¬ 
onstrate his principles he had to found a 
school of his own, which he did in the 
Canton Aargau, in the village of Birr, on 
a farm known as Neuhof. 

In the undertaking at Neuhof he was 
assisted by a few men, and, I am happy 
to say, at least one woman. They de¬ 
serve mention: Madame Francesca Ro- 
mana of Halwyl and Messrs. Zschokke 
of Aargau, Fellenberg, Graffenried and 
Tscharner of Berne, Hirzel, Fiissli and 
Lavater of Zurich, Blatter, Sarasin and 
Iselin of Basel. Descendants of some of 
these men live to-day. One Sarasin and 
one Zschokke are officers of the Swiss 
National League for Nature Protection. 
There is a Zschokke to-day in the United 
States Forest service. Iselin is the name 
of a prominent present-day New York 
family. A daughter of the New York 
Iselins lately married a foreign noble¬ 
man; but nothing can ever shed greater 


88 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


lustre upon that honored name than the 
fact recorded by Pestalozzi himself that 
when, impatient with the slowness of re¬ 
sults from his labors, others withdrew 
their support, Iselin still continued to en¬ 
courage and befriend him. It was also 
Iselin who made possible the publication 
of Pestalozzi’s “ Leonard and Gertrude,” 
a novel of Swiss folk-life which still to¬ 
day ranks as an educational classic and 
has been translated into many languages. 

After that first venture in Neuhof, 
Pestalozzi established his Institute in 
Yverdon, in the French-speaking part of 
Switzerland. Here Froebel came to 
learn of Pestalozzi, and after two years 
went away and founded the Kinder¬ 
garten. The presence and influence of 
Pestalozzi and of his world-famous In¬ 
stitute gave to that part of Switzerland 
a great impetus to education. Lausanne 
and Geneva on beautiful Lake Leman 
are reputed to have the best elementary 
as well as the most up-to-date finishing 



Pkstalozzi Friend of Children and Father of Orphans. 

Page 89. 

From painting by Albert Anker, in the Art Museum, Zurich. 




IN SWITZERLAND 


89 


schools in the world. Many American 
and English children are sent there. After 
the death of her husband, Mrs. Grover 
Cleveland selected Lausanne as the place 
best fitted to educate her children. 

In every schoolroom in Switzerland 
there is a picture of Father Pestalozzi. 

To his memory there are two famous stat- 

» 

ues, one in Yverdon, and one in Zurich, 
which is his birthplace. In the art 
museum of Zurich there is a recent paint¬ 
ing of Pestalozzi by Anker. All these 
represent him as distinctively the friend of 
children; but the painting pictures him 
particularly as father of orphans, which 
he was during a time when Napoleon’s 
wars caused many Swiss children to be¬ 
come orphaned. Many biographies have 
been written of Pestalozzi, several by 
former pupils. The most complete is that 
by Roger de Quimps, and this has been 
translated into English. 

With all his innate tenderness Pesta¬ 
lozzi was an apostle of the strenuous life. 


90 WHEN I WAS A GIRL 

School life in Switzerland, at least in my: 
days, was not the easygoing thing that it is 
in America. In summer time our school 
was in session from seven to twelve and 
from one to four, with a ten-minutes’ re- 
cess in each session. During summer we 
had only a three-weeks’ vacation, and a 
few days each at Christmas and Easter 
time. 

A child entered school at the age of 
six, and woe unto him if he could not 
keep up with his class. There was no 
provision made and no consideration 
shown in those days for the mentally 
weak or retarded, or the defective child. 
Any who did not move along with the 
procession went to the bottom of the class 
and stayed there. Of course, this was the 
rule pretty generally until recent years. 
It took Pestalozzi’s humane ideas a cen- 
tury to attain the desired results. 

I began to attend the primary school at 
the age of six. My first school dress was 
a blue homespun print trimmed with ser- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


91 


pentine braid. In our village it was con¬ 
sidered disrespectful to the Sabbath to 
wear on that day a dress that was in¬ 
tended for week-days; but I was so proud 
of my school dress that I wore it that one 
Sunday before school. 

Teachers were supplied by some dis¬ 
trict or cantonal board, the same as min¬ 
isters. In a Swiss village in those days, 
next to the Herr Pfarrer, the schoolmas¬ 
ter was the august personage. My fa¬ 
ther had been one of a group of men in 
Weiach who had become dissatisfied with 
the teacher. This made it unpleasant for 
me from the start. He underrated my 
work wherever he could, and did many 
things, the injustice of which I realized 
when I became old enough to judge of 
such things. For instance, he gave me 
all the way from six to a dozen “ taps ” 
on the bare hand with his broad ruler al¬ 
most daily, just because my handwriting 
did not suit him. Yet I know that I al¬ 
ways loved to write, and so naturally 


92 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


would do my very best in that branch. 
But there was no attempt to recognize ef¬ 
fort; only results were considered. 

Once the teacher discovered that I was 
sitting on some books. I was short of 
stature and the desk was high, and I tried 
to raise myself to a more comfortable 
position. One was a broad flat book, 
something like the ordinary geography. 
He took that book and hit me across the 
head and the back with it several times. 

In springtime we girls used to make 
our own balls to play with, in the way I 
have already described. One year I had 
such a pretty ball, I just loved to look at 
it. Once the teacher caught me doing so. 
He took the ball away from me and kept 
it a long time, just when I most wanted 
to play with it. 

One might wonder why I did not com¬ 
plain to my parents of such treatment. 
The fact is that in my young days I was 
so imbued with the infallibility and the 
superiority of a schoolmaster, it never oc- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


93 


curred to me to make complaints at home 
about harsh treatment in school. 

For three years I submitted to this 
treatment in all meekness; then I was 
promoted to the grammar school. 


CHAPTER VIII 


MORE SCHOOL-DAYS 

It was during the years 1862 to 1865, 
while the Civil War raged in this coun¬ 
try, that I attended the grammar school. 
I remember well how, whenever the term 
“ United States ” occurred in our history 
or geography, the teacher would say 
“ United (but now disunited) States.” 

During this time the main topic of con¬ 
versation between my father and his 
friends was the great civil war in 
America. “If only this war were over,” 
was a phrase I heard over and over again. 
Every Saturday the newspaper was de¬ 
livered to us by a woman. I remember 
the enormous black headlines telling of 
President Lincoln’s assassination, and 
how the grief over that tragedy clouded 
the rejoicings over the close of the war. 

I had no idea then I would ever see 

94 


IN SWITZERLAND 


95 


America, much less that I would become 
a citizen of this great and good country. 

The teacher had a beautiful garden in 
the school grounds, and he taught us a 
great deal about flowers. I remember 
wonderful varieties of snapdragons, lark¬ 
spur, marigolds, and all sorts of roses and 
pinks. He used to give little packages of 
seeds to the “ deserving ones.” I never 
got any. Although this teacher did not 
find any fault with my work, he counted 
it a great misdemeanor that now and then 
I liked to pass a remark to the girl beside 
me. I excelled in composition, in any¬ 
thing that related to language or ability 
of expression. I was often told in those 
days that I ought to become an actress. 
But I was poor in arithmetic, and oh, how 
I hated it! There were days when my 
brain just simply refused to work during 
the arithmetic period. 

Now to explain what I concluded to be 
the reason for this, I shall have to relate 
some family history of which in these 


96 WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 

days of enlightenment on the subject I 
am not very proud. It was the custom in 
those days for every householder to distill 
his own whiskies and brandies. There 
such spirits were commonly called 
schnapps. Once in a while my brother 
and I were sent to bed earlier than usual, 
for instance when we were being punished 
for something or other. Then, we would 
be up earlier than usual in the morning, 
and at such times we generally found Fa¬ 
ther and Mother enjoying a glass of 
schnapps together. If they were then in 
a forgiving mood, they would pour a lit¬ 
tle schnapps on slices of bread and give to 
each of us what we called a “ schnapps- 
brodli.” 

Gradually I perceived that the days 
when my brain wouldn’t work at the 
arithmetic period were always those on 
which I had had a schnappsbrodli in the 
morning. 

I do not recall much of interest con¬ 
cerning our studies in the grammar school 


IN SWITZERLAND 


97 


during the three years I was in it. I 
know that years afterward I regretted 
that we were not encouraged more to make 
acquaintance with Nature in her more in¬ 
timate aspects. Switzerland has wonder¬ 
ful wild flowers, yet the only flowers, ex¬ 
cept the snowdrop, that I learned any¬ 
thing about were the cultivated ones. Of 
birds I remember learning a poem about 
an “ amsel,” which is a black thrush. 
This amsel was described as having a bill 
yellow as gold and plumage black as coal, 
and living near a spring. I remember 
one other poem about a man who went 
mowing his meadow. He came upon a 
bird’s nest, mowed all around it, and left 
the nest and its occupants undisturbed. 
This poem and the one about the amsel 
made such a lasting impression on me, 
that I feel sure if there had been more of 
such teaching I should remember it. 
During the winter of 1910-11 which I 
spent in Zurich, an amsel pair (he was 
black and she brown with speckled front) 


98 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


came for food daily to my window-sill. It 
seemed to me then that a bird so confiding 
ought in our school days to have become 
a personal, and not merely a book ac¬ 
quaintance. During that winter I was 
astonished to see how many species of 
birds, beside the woodpeckers, wintered 
in the northern part of Switzerland. No 
one there collects bird’s eggs. The per¬ 
nicious habit seems never to have had a 
beginning. 

During that visit to Switzerland I also 
made frequent excursions with one of 
Zurich’s progressive teachers, Miss Emi- 
lie Schappi, and her school. I learned 
then to my great joy that natural history 
was being taught in the open. Miss 
Schappi made a specialty of taking her 
forty children out walking at all seasons, 
to the various environs of the city as 
well as to points of interest within the 
city. In pleasant weather those seven- 
year-olds thought nothing of climbing the 
Uetliberg, a steady ascent of a mile or 


IN SWITZERLAND 


99 


more. In cold weather short excursions 
were made. 

The accompanying picture shows these 
children on a ledge of the Uetliberg. 
Here a child could get such an idea of the 
beauties of his native city and immediate 
surroundings as made it easy afterward 
to implant lessons in patriotism. This 
outing recalled my school days and the 
fact that, although the village of Weiach 
has a most idyllic setting between two 
rambling mountains—the Hobrig on one 
side, the Schanzenberg on the other, with 
the Rhine flowing near by, yet never were 
we taken as a school up any of those 
slopes. A view from such an eminence 
might at least have given us some fresh 
material for conversation and for com¬ 
positions. But we just had to learn 
everything laboriously from books, even 
about things that were to be seen 
at our very door. Our school read¬ 
ers had accounts about the beautiful 
Aletsch and Rhone glaciers, the wild 


) 

^ ■> 
y ^ > 


> ) i 



100 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


Gemmi and Grimsel passes, the pictur¬ 
esque valleys of the Reuss and the Rhone, 
the charms of the quaint Engadine, the 
lordly peaks of Monte Rosa and the Mat¬ 
terhorn. But all this was so far removed 
from us that it seemed like fairy tales. A 
walk up our Hobrig or the Schanzenberg 
would have been far more inspiring than 
all that reading. 

Years afterward when my brother was 
attending school I noticed that his first 
reader contained descriptions of such 
near towns and villages as Kaiserstuhl, 
Rhinefelden, Eglisau, Stadel, Glattfel- 
den, etc., and from there on in an ever- 
widening radius. So I think they were 
already beginning to improve matters at 
that time. 

But I must finish telling about the ex¬ 
cursion with those Zuricher children to 
the Uetliberg. In the roadway they 
found a dead amsel, all roughed and 
tousled. Teacher tenderly smoothed its 
feathers and stroked its back. Then she 


i 


< 



u •• 

( 



The obscure Village of Weiach.— Page 99. 

Weiach lias a most idyllic setting between two rambling mountains, 
and the historic Rhine flowing near by. 



Teacher held the Amsel up, so that the children might 

see it.— Page 101. 

In former days a school on a hike was a novelty; now it is a common 

sight. 






■ 

■ 







IN SWITZERLAND 


101 


held the little bird up so all the children 
could see it. 

“ What do you think made this amsel 
die? ” she asked them. 

Some guessed cold, some hunger or 
thirst, some thought it had been hurt. 
After every child had been encouraged to 
give an opinion, teacher showed that the 
bird had a good covering of feathers and 
soft warm down underneath. No, it was 
not cold that made the bird die. And 
there was no wound on its body, so it did 
not die from any injury. But its body 
was flabby and thin. Perhaps after the 
deep snow fell the bird did not find 
enough to eat to keep its body strong and 
well so it would be warm. If everybody 
had put out food for the birds, then when 
the snow came this little amsel might 
have found enough to eat and would not 
have died. 

Always on the day following an excur¬ 
sion, the school had a talk period about it. 
This time the interest centered about the 


102 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


dead amsel, and every child was eager to 
say something. They had had time to 
think it over and some had talked about it 
with the folks at home. Many said that 
the birds would now find something to 
eat on their window-sills. Some had 
hung up little croeheted bags with grain 
and nut-meats in them, and some had put 
out a drink, too, for the birds. 

The memory of that excursion, of the 
interest it awakened in things outdoors, 
the talk about it and the exercise in lan¬ 
guage and in expression that it furnished, 
recalled how little opportunity we were 
given in our school days for self-expres¬ 
sion. We just had facts and dates 
crammed into us that we were expected 
to memorize, and to have them ready to 
reel off when demand arose. The real 
significance of the facts was barely 
touched upon. 

Then once a year we had what was 
called “Examen ”—examination. This 
day was always preceded by weeks of 



IN SWITZERLAND 


103 


terror when the teacher would quizz 
us in history, geography, and kindred 
branches. When he was disappointed in 
our answers he raved like a madman un¬ 
til he had us nearly paralyzed with fear. 
Then came Examen day, and we went to 
school dressed in our Sunday clothes, but 
with fear and trembling in our hearts. 
This session was attended by ministers, 
teachers and public-spirited citizens from 
surrounding towns and villages, and al¬ 
ways by our inspector. When this person 
happened to be Mr. Reichling, who 
afterward became one of my teachers, we 
were pleased; for he always wore a smile. 
Most of the others were austere-looking 
men. No woman ever attended this ses¬ 
sion. Indeed in my days I never saw a 
woman inside of a schoolroom except in a 
sewing-school. 

After the Examen was over there was 
a feast which very much relieved the ten¬ 
sion. It will be described in another 
chapter. 


CHAPTER IX 


SCHOOL HOLIDAYS 

In my time home-made wine was the 
common beverage at meals and between. 
It was, of course, before the days of the 
temperance crusade and the organization 
of the Woman’s Christian Temperance 
Union, before the advent of the prohibi¬ 
tion movement, before Father Matthews’ 
total abstinence society, Francis Murphy, 
John B. Gough, Mother Thompson, 
Frances Willard and all the great proph¬ 
ets and prophetesses who helped to 
spread world-wide the gospel of temper¬ 
ance. I am happy to say that the W. 
C. T. U. has a strong organization in 
Switzerland. The temperance cause has 
made such progress there that a large 

percentage of the grapes grown on those 

104 


IN SWITZERLAND 


105 


fertile slopes is now made into tHe harm¬ 
less beverage known as grape juice. 

During my days in the grammar 
school we finally got a new teacher. His 
coming was the occasion of a gala day for 
the entire village, but for the school chil¬ 
dren in particular. In the first place it 
was a school holiday. All school children 
were told to report at the schoolhouse on 
that day at one o’clock; and we went 
dressed in our very best. The members 
of the school board were there, too. My 
godfather was one, so was Cousin Setti’s 
father, and so was my uncle, the post¬ 
master. We formed a procession. I re¬ 
call now how Miss Schappi’s children 
formed their procession: always two big 
children took a smaller one between them. 
How protective! But this procession of 
ours was of the old-fashioned kind: the 
little ones in front and the larger ones 
following according to size. It took 
quite a while to form the procession, and 
we were so full of expectancy it was hard 


106 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


to wait. But finally everything was 
ready for us to start. This procession 
included all the children from both the 
primary and grammar schools. The 
teacher was a sort of marshal for the day 
and preceded us. The board members 
walked along on either side. It was a 
perfect day. We walked through the 
village, and all along were cheered by 
spectators until we had the last house be¬ 
hind us. 



novelty. Now it is a common sight. At 
a crossroad we halted and presently we 
saw coming toward us on foot two gentle¬ 
men. Then we proceeded toward them. 
When we met there was handshaking first 
by the teacher with the two strangers, 
then the board members. Of course, 
there was the usual bowing and scraping 
such as happens when Swiss meet Swiss, 
and there was speech-making on both 
sides. And we children sang a song. 

The return journey was begun, and as 


IN SWITZERLAND 


107 


we reached the village some of the chil¬ 
dren wanted to take the shortest cut home. 
But we were told all to keep in line until 
we should reach the schoolhouse. Our 
hearts sank within us. We had counted 
on a complete holiday, and here we were 
told to return to the schoolhouse. The 
clock on the church steeple pointed to 
half-past three. 

Arrived at the schoolyard we were told 
every one should go in and take his accus¬ 
tomed seat. Worse and more of it! But 
imagine our surprise when we found both 
the lower and the upper schoolrooms 
decorated with the beautiful Swiss flag— 
the white cross on red field—and on every 
desk a great big one of my godfather’s 
“ Weggli,” a cervelat sausage and a glass 
of wine. It was, in fact, just such a feast 
as we had every year on Examen day. 
The best of it was there was no ban now 
on talking to your neighbor, and a jolly 
good time was spent. 

Once more during my grammar school 



108 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


days did we have a similar feast. It was 
on the occasion of the coming to our vil¬ 
lage of a new Herr Pfarrer. Our Herr 
Pfarrer had died. I heard it said that he 
drank too much new wine that year. We 
children sang at his funeral, so did also 
the singing societies of the village, just as 
they did at my Uncle Hans-Heiri’s fu¬ 
neral. 

There were red-letter days of a differ¬ 
ent kind. For instance, if a new house 
was being built in our village we children 
knew that when it came to the roofing it 
would mean a half-holiday for the gram¬ 
mar school. 

Now that seems queer, doesn’t it? 

Well, it happens this way: when the 
house is ready to be roofed the builder or 
owner will ask the teacher to let his chil¬ 
dren help. Of course, he consents. The 
girls and boys from the grammar school 
then go to the house in question. Lad¬ 
ders are placed that reach from the 
ground to the roof. On top of the house 


IN SWITZERLAND 


109 


near every ladder is a man. Some of the 
strongest boys then climb to the top rung 
of the ladder, others follow, and in a few 
minutes every ladder has a boy or girl 
seated on every alternate rung. On the 
other rungs they rest their feet. Some 
helpers on the ground now begin to hand 
tiles, one after another, to the children on 
the lowest rungs. These take hold firmly 
with both hands, pass them quickly to the 
next above and the next to the next above 
and so on. As the tiles reach the boys on 
the topmost rungs they hand them to the 
men who put them in place. Once fairly 
started the work proceeds so very fast 
that in a few hours the roof is tiled. But 
it is bad for the eyes, because dust and 
other particles fall from the tiles as they 
are passed overhead. 

When the work is finished the children 
have a treat, and it has to come up to the 
standard of the spread served by the 
school board on Examen day, or the 
builder would never hear the last of it. 


110 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


While I was still in grammar school my 
father built a factory, and the size of it 
made the roofing a great event in Weiach. 
On that occasion, instead of by ladders 
the roof was reached by means of a long 
slanting board walk, called an escalade. 
On this the children stood as they handed 
up the tiles, not overhead but sideways. 
At the finish the treat was bread and 
cheese and cider. 

The immense wheel which operated the 
factory was propelled by water from our 
village brook, which had a considerable 
fall, coming as it did from the Hobrig. It 
was a wonderment to us children to see 
that brook deliberately mount about 
twelve feet in a sort of trough, then drop 
into a pocket of the wheel, and so keep it 
turning. Robert, one of our apprentices, 
made the same kind of wheel in miniature 
and operated it in the brook. The big 
wheel attracted the village boys so that 
they became regular hangers-on about the 
factory, to the annoyance of the workmen. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


111 


One day Robert asked one of the boys to 
hand him a chain which lay on the floor. 
The boy seized and suddenly dropped the 
chain. It had not long before been lying 
in the fire in the forge, and was still hot. 
The boy was Jacques. Robert told me 
afterward that he tried to repay him for 
the many mean pranks he had played on 




me. 


CHAPTER X 


A SCHOOL OUTING 

Just once during the six years of my 
primary school days did we as a school 
have an outing. This was to the capital 
of our Canton, the city of Zurich. 

We had to walk ten miles, then we 
boarded a railroad train and rode five 
miles. Some of the children had soaped 
their stockings to prevent blistering of 
feet. Father poured schnapps into our 
shoes—brother’s and mine. If schnapps 
has to be made, this is a good way to 
use it. 

History tells us that the great Charle¬ 
magne once lived in the city of Zurich. 
His palace is still well preserved and 
bears a tablet recording the fact of his 

residence there. We were taken to view 

112 



Charlemagne’s Palace.— Page, 112. 

One of many historic haunts in the city of Ziirich. 



Charlemagne on the Grossmunster in Zurich.— Page 114. 

The church of the two towers which Charlemagne sponsored and where 

Zwingli preached. 





IN SWITZERLAND 


113 


the historic landmark. In the transom 
of the arched mediaeval portal which leads 
to the ground floor, please note the figure 
of a serpent partly uncoiled into an up¬ 
right position. 

History further has it that Charle¬ 
magne was so kind of heart that he 
wanted to right all the wrongs that were 
suffered by the people. Even animals 
sought him out to have their wrongs re¬ 
dressed. One day the door-bell rang and 
a serpent presented itself. Charlemagne 
followed it, and it led him to a spot near 
the lake where a big toad was sitting on 
the serpent’s nest which contained eggs. 
The Emperor ordered the toad to be re¬ 
moved. On the following day the serpent 
returned and presented its benefactor 
with a wonderful jewel. With the pro¬ 
ceeds of this jewel the Emperor founded 
a church on the spot where the serpent’s 
nest had been located. So goes the leg¬ 
end. 

Near Charlemagne’s former residence 


114 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


is the Grossmunster, which was built in the 
eighth century. A statue of the great 
monarch in a niche on one of the towers is 
shown in the inset to the accompanying 
picture. Teacher had often told us about 
it, and how every day when Charlemagne 
on the Grossmunster hears the clock strike 
twelve, he rises, makes a bow, and sits 
down again. 

Shortly before twelve we were taken to 
the bridge which spans the beautiful Lim- 
mat at that place. We were fully expect¬ 
ing—at least I was—to witness the won¬ 
derful miracle. The clock began to 
strike. We counted, solemnly, from one 
to twelve, looking steadily at the statue. 
Charlemagne did not rise. 

Then we looked inquiringly at the 
teacher. 

“ I guess he didn’t hear it,” was the 
only explanation he made to us. Of 
course, we knew then that we had been 
duped. But we were taken at once to a 
near-by hotel, where an excellent meal 




IN SWITZERLAND 


115 


was served. This put us in a forgiving 
mood. 

After dinner we were taken to the mu¬ 
seum of natural history and to the botan¬ 
ical gardens, then to a historical museum 
where among other things we saw a pe¬ 
culiarly shaped cap said to have been 
worn by Zwingli, the noted Swiss re¬ 
former, and a wooden apple pierced by 
an arrow, in imitation of the apple which 
the hero, William Tell, shot off his son’s 
head. 

Zwingli was a great humanitarian. His 
repugnance to the custom then in vogue 
of Swiss soldiers hiring out as merce¬ 
naries, after the manner of the Hessians, 
deserves to be emphasized here. Al¬ 
though I admire it as a work of art, I 
have never taken any pride in the famous 
Lion Memorial in Lucerne, because the 
eight hundred Swiss soldiers there ideal¬ 
ized, and who met their death heroically 
in the French Revolution, were hired for 
money to kill men who were not their 


116 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


enemies. They put themselves lower 
than assassins, because an assassin usually 
has a grievance, or at least imagines he 
has. Zwingli’s opposition finally brought 
about the desired result. Swiss soldiers 
became unwilling to engage in such serv¬ 
ice. A noteworthy example is that of the 
young Genevese, Albert Gallatin. Rather 
than “ serve a tyrant,” as he termed it, 
when urged to join the British army in 
America as a mercenary, he left his home 
secretly for America. As already men¬ 
tioned in a previous chapter, he became a 
valued public servant of his adopted 
country. The Pope’s Swiss guard at the 
Vatican is now the last remnant of Swiss 
mercenaries. 

As to William Tell, there are those who 
question the authenticity of the apple 
story. But whatever the world in gen¬ 
eral may believe in the matter, after every 
attack on their pet tradition the Swiss al¬ 
ways hold more firmly than ever to it. 
Following the last onslaught by Kopp, 


IN SWITZERLAND 


117 


who was retained by the Hapsburgs to 
discredit the Tell-Gessler story, the Swiss 
had a picture of their hero placed in every 
schoolroom in the land by the side of that 
of Pestalozzi. Every year also the story 
of Swiss freedom and of the part Tell 
played in it is reenacted in drama in the 
open valley where the original took place. 

Of the antiquated records still in ex¬ 
istence, one describes Tell’s reception at 
his home, when he returned with the boy 
who had been exposed to such a hazard 
as having an apple shot off his head. It 
is here recorded that as the lad was re¬ 
turned to his grief-torn mother she 
flooded the happy father with reproaches; 
how did he dare to subject his own child 
to the deadly weapon; what an unfeeling 
heart he must have; no father and no hus¬ 
band had ever attempted such a thing; 
that he was unworthy to be called either 
father or husband; others would have been 
more clever; and that never would an At- 
tinghausen have done such a thing. 


118 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL ’ 


Madame Tell was a daughter of the re¬ 
nowned Attinghausen, one of the earliest 
Swiss confederates for freedom. 

A visit to the lake front, where on a 
clear day a wonderful view is had of the 
Swiss Alps, ended our sight-seeing. This 
happened to be a clear day. Pictures in 
our geograplty of the mountain ranges 
had made us familiar with the principal 
peaks, so that we were able to single out 
in the scene before us the Todi, Glarnisch, 
and some others. 

During our homeward ride on the train 
we heartily bemoaned the ten miles our 
tired feet would have to retrace. But 
upon arriving at the terminal station 
there were wagons of all descriptions 
enough to carry us all home. Our village 
fathers had thought of their tired children 
and had kindly come to our rescue. That 
day stands out in my memory as a red- 
letter day, and the home-going in those 
hospitable wagons was one of the pleas¬ 
antest parts of it. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE DEAR OLD SCHOOLHOUSE 

As I think now of those days in the 
grammar school I recall much for which 
I have all my life been deeply thankful. 

Although in my home we always had a 
garden, with flowers growing in it, it was 
in school that I really learned to love 
flowers. 

Even though I was not considered to 

be one of the “ deserving ” to get little 

packages of seeds, the very flowers that 

the teacher tended most lovingly grew in 

our garden. I remember that several 

times he questioned me about this, and 

showed plainly that he suspected I had 

gotten those flowers in some dark and 

crooked way, for instance, by snatching a 

seed-pod in passing. I solemnly affirm 

here and now that such a thing never en- 

119 


120 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


tered my mind. Our garden was only a 
few hundred feet from the school garden. 
Afterward when I studied botany and 
learned of the various ways in which 
plants are distributed, I came to the con¬ 
clusion that probably the wind had blown 
some seeds over into our garden, and that 
birds had dropped them in passing. Any¬ 
way, snapdragons of the choicest variety, 
and giant larkspurs continued to appear 
in our garden. I always transplanted 
them to the central flower-bed which was 
my special charge. As years passed and 
I had seeds in abundance, I started an ad¬ 
ditional flower-bed the whole length of 
our garden where it flanked the main 
road. 

This was almost opposite the school 
garden, and after that the teacher became 
more and more distant to me. I do be¬ 
lieve now that he really thought I had 
started that new flower garden in a spirit 
of rivalry. There were many instances in 
which he displayed his ill-will. For in- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


121 


stance, once when I again had a very 
pretty ball and was tempted to look at it 
during school time, he took it away from 
me and never returned it. I saw his 
niece have it afterward. 

One thing for which I am and always 
shall be thankful is the religious instruc¬ 
tion I received in our public schools. At 
that age I did not take in the full spiritual 
meaning of those lessons. I committed 
them by rote mechanically. But they evi¬ 
dently filtered into my brain and were 
stored up for times of need; for in after 
years many of the texts served to instruct, 
to encourage, and to strengthen me as oc¬ 
casion required. Of course, in a country 
like ours, with its mixed population, re¬ 
ligious instruction in schools does not 
seem practicable. But humane instruc¬ 
tion would, without any tinge of sectarian¬ 
ism, teach Love, Justice, and Mercy, the 
fundamental principles of religion. 

I recall one spiritual truth which ar¬ 
rested my immediate attention at school. 


122 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


It was this, that we should pray in secret 
and that we would then be rewarded 
openly. We had to commit to memory 
every week a hymn from our church 
hymn-book, and those hymns varied in 
length all the way from four to twelve 
verses. Once when teacher was giving 
out a hymn for my class to learn I said to 
the girl beside me, “ Oh, I know that al¬ 
ready,” and I suppose I acted somewhat 
jubilant over it. 

The teacher had sharp eyes and ears, 
and it seemed as if they were continually 
directed toward me. 

“All right, Luisa,” he called, “ you 
learn No. 213.” 

No. 213 was the longest hymn in the 
book, twelve verses. I shall have more 
to say about that hymn later on. 

Hymns were used as means of prayer 
and meditation. Greta, our pious house¬ 
maid, always recited one before retiring. 
She and I occupied the same room, and 
after she learned that I knew several 


IN SWITZERLAND 


123 


hymns she used to coax me to recite them 
to her. Once I heard her tell Mother 
that to listen to me recite a hymn was as 
good to her as if she made a prayer. That 
set me to thinking. I had been so 
strongly impressed with the idea that a 
prayer must be said in secret, I concluded 
that reciting hymns for another was not 
praying for myself. It was not done “ in 
secret ” and would not bring the promised 
“ reward.” So after that, just before 
bedtime, I always absented myself from 
the family circle, and whispered a hymn 
to myself. This was my evening prayer. 

We had what passed as a Sunday 
School in our church, but it was a very 
formal service compared with what Sun¬ 
day Schools are here. Herr Pfarrer, 
robed in his black gown, talked to us from 
the chancel away up a flight of stairs. I 
do not remember one word that he ever 
said from that lofty eminence. The one 
remembrance that I have of my connec¬ 
tion with our village church is a verse of 


124 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


Scripture that was printed in huge letters 
on the church wall: 

The Fear of the Lord is the Be¬ 
ginning of Wisdom 

I remembered this so vividly on the oc¬ 
casion of my first visit to my home village 
after an absence of thirty years, that I 
missed it. There was another verse in its 
place. 

It was in that humble schoolhouse in 
my little Swiss village that I imbibed 
those elementary principles of religion 
which have been my faithful anchor in the 
storms of a very changeful life. Nothing 
more fitly describes my feeling for that 
little schoolhouse than the old trite, 
“ With all thy faults I love thee still.” 


CHAPTER XII 


OUR NEW FRAU PFARRER 

Soon after the death of our Herr 
Pfarrer, my friend, the Frau Pfarrer, re¬ 
turned with her children to her people in 
the city. The loss of her friendship and 
of Mari Widmer’s visits were two of the 
great sorrows that came into my young 
life. 

Now for a while there was no Frau 
Pfarrer. Our new Herr Pfarrer had 
brought his sister, who was his house¬ 
keeper. 

One Sunday it was given out in Sun¬ 
day School that all the children were in¬ 
vited to be at the Pfarrhaus on a certain 
evening. We appeared, in our Sunday 
clothes, of course. It had rained a little, 
and what scraping of shoes there was on 

that iron rack, and wiping on that rope 

125 


126 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


mat, before the door flew open! There 
must have been nearly a hundred of us. 
We were all seated on long benches in the 
up-stairs vestibule, one of those rooms 
that always had the immaculate white 
floor. At first only the Ma’mselle, as we 
called the housekeeper, was there to re¬ 
ceive us. After a while Herr Pfarrer 
entered with a lovely lady on his arm. 
They bowed to us, and we all arose. 
We had been coached to do so by our 
teachers. It all went like clockwork. 
Then Herr Pfarrer and the lady took 
their place beside a table that had stacks 
of little packages on it, and he told us that 

this ladv was now our new Frau Pfarrer. 
«/ 

The Ma’mselle began with the nearest 
child and conducted each of us to the table, 
where we were permitted to shake hands 
with our new Frau Pfarrer and to receive 
from her a little package. 

We did not stay long after all the hand¬ 
shaking was finished. I wanted to go 
home and see what was in my package. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


127 


and so I suppose did the others. The 
packages all looked alike. Each one con¬ 
tained a tiny gift-book and a honey-cake. 
The books were the different gospels: 
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Mine 
was the Gospel of St. John in a neat black 
binding with gilt lettering. I had it still 
when we were getting ready to come to 
America, and packed it along with my 
baptismal certificate. Speaking of bap¬ 
tismal certificates, my brother’s got safely 
across the ocean, so also did my father’s 
and mother’s. They had all been taken 
out of their frames. But mine and St. 
John I never saw again. 

Soon after our new Frau Pfarrer came, 
some changes took place in our church 
and village life. The church auditorium 
was long and narrow; the far end of it 
formed a half-circle. The body of the 

i 

edifice was divided lengthwise by a wide 
aisle, on one side of which sat the men and 
boys, on the other side the women and 
girls. On the wall next to the women’s 


128 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


side there was an enclosure similar to an 
opera box, long enough to seat several 
people. This was for Frau Pfarrer and 
her family. The half-circle in front was 
lined with seats similar to opera chairs, 
each chair having a partition so high that 
the occupants could not see each other 
unless they bent forward and looked 
around. In those stately chairs sat the 
officers and other dignitaries of the 
church. They always wore tall silk hats, 
which during prayer they held in front 
of their faces. 

The Sunday apparel of the elders and 
matrons was usually black. Every Mon¬ 
day morning Mother brushed and put 
away her own and Father’s Sunday 
clothes. Once I had opportunity to take 
a good look at Father’s hat, and I noticed 
that there were holes in the crown. I 
took it for granted they were peep-holes; 
but, of course, they were for ventilation. 
I got the idea then that the object in hav¬ 
ing those seats face the congregation was 


IN SWITZERLAND 


129 


to keep a watchful eye on the boys and 
girls in the low front benches. 

Immediately behind the children on 
either side of the aisle sat the young, or 
rather, the unmarried people. Folks 
were counted as young until they were 
married, and sat in the young people’s 
seats. On the other hand, no matter how 
young a youth or lady married, they had 
to take their place after that with the 
married, and be counted as “ old folks.” 

Up to the time our new Frau Pfarrer 
came, the grammar school teacher had led 
the church singing. He sat just in front 
of the baptismal font and faced the con¬ 
gregation. After a hymn was given out 
he took a tuning-fork from his pocket, 
gave it a shake, then from its vibrations 
he would catch the correct note and start 
the hymn, the congregation following. 
The first of Frau Pfarrer’s innovations 
was a harmonium. It resembled a large 
flat-topped desk, but was really a church 
organ. Frau Pfarrer played it at both 


130 


WEEK 1 WAS A GIRL 


the church and Sunday School services to 
the great delight of us children. But we 
were not the only ones who delighted in 
that organ. Men who had not been in¬ 
side of a church for years now became 
regular attendants. 

Another innovation which was intro¬ 
duced by our Frau Pfarrer was the use 
of printed cards for social occasions. For 
use at funeral services, for instance, it was 
a card with a black border bearing the 
owner’s name. Every one in attendance 
left such a card on a tray provided for the 
purpose, and any absentees used the same 
card to express their sympathies. By 
this means the bereaved family knew who 
had been present. 

Other cards introduced by the Frau 
Pfarrer were of a cheerful kind: con¬ 
gratulations on engagements, on wed¬ 
dings, and on births, etc. These cards 
worked a complete revolution among the 
villagers in their feelings toward each 
other. Some who had harbored petty 


IN SWITZERLAND 


131 


jealousies or grudges began to watch for 
opportunities to use their cards in order 
to express some felicitation. Inciden¬ 
tally these simple innovations tended to 
increase the church attendance and to 
stimulate the religious life in the whole 
village. Frau Pfarrer also organized 
among the church ladies a missionary so¬ 
ciety; and, last of all, she instituted a 
public circulating library. 

Previous to the establishment of the 
library I just read whatever I happened 
to find. I think that the public mind, 
juvenile and adult, was fed all sorts of 
sensational stuff. I remember reading 
one story entitled “ Genoveva,” which re¬ 
tailed the marital unhappiness of a woman 
whose jealous husband had banished her 
to a forest. There was nothing at all in 
the book to feed a child’s aspirations, nor 
to stimulate wholesome imagination. It 
was just a mass of “ sob-stuff,” but it 
passed as a children’s book. 

Another book I remember reading at 


132 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


that time (it had only a paper cover) de¬ 
tailed the life history of a man who had 

As 

poisoned his father and mother, and who 
was condemned to death. I even remem¬ 
ber his name, Jacob Furrer, and the fact 
that he was a butcher’s apprentice, and 
much more that need not be told here. 
All this rubbish was impressed on a 
young mind which was eager for better 
things. And what a lasting impression 
it made! Over fifty years have elapsed, 
and the narrative is as fresh in my mind 
as if it had been read yesterday. I recall 
that when I read that story I was staying 
home from school because I had the 
mumps. Could it be this fact made me 
more impressionable? I was nursing my¬ 
self on top of the hospitable tile stove, 
which is an integral part of every Swiss 
living-room. The tile stove with a 
feather-bed on top was the usual refuge 
for any member of the family who had a 
slight indisposition. 

The firing of the tile stove was done in 



The Hospitable Tile Stove.— Page 132. 

Each member of the family finds here his favorite cosy place. 









IN SWITZERLAND 


133 


the kitchen, just on the other side of the 
wall. On baking day the ashes were scru¬ 
pulously removed and the ten to twelve 
big loaves of rye bread lifted in, one at a 
time, on a wooden spade, and slid off on 
the bare stone bottom. This made won¬ 
derfully savory bread. The cooking 
range was beside the oven door, and over¬ 
head in the sooty chimney hung the hams, 
sausages, bacon, etc., being “ smoked.” 

After the library was opened we chil¬ 
dren had access to the best of children’s 
books. I remember reading at that time, 
and also hearing discussed in the family, 
Pestalozzi’s famous classic, “ Leonard 
and Gertrude.” 

There was also circulation of excellent 
magazines. I recall seeing in magazines 
and poring over with pride and admiration 
pictures of some of my distinguished 
countrywomen, including Miss Angelica 
Kauffmann. This was a revelation to me. 
Up to that time I had never had but one 
woman teacher, and she only teacher of 


134 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


sewing. I had never known but one 
woman to visit a school, our Frau Pfar- 
rer in the sewing-school. I had never 
seen a woman inside of our regular 
schoolrooms except to sweep and to dust 
and to scrub. I had never seen a woman 
in the church except on similar errands, 
or as a humble worshiper. We did not 
even have women to teach in the Sun¬ 
day School. Naturally I was surprised 
and delighted to learn that Switzerland 
had two world-famed artists in Angelica 
Kauffmann 1 and Mary Moser. 

I was further surprised and delighted 
to learn that the brilliant Madame de 
Stael was of Swiss birth and parentage. 
In magazines I also saw for the first 
time pictures of Pestalozzi and of Zwingli 
and other Swiss notables. 

How much I owe to our good Frau 
Pfarrer for the part she had in establish- 

1 'I hree of Angelica Kauffmann’s paintings are in the 
city of Philadelphia. One is in the Wanamaker collec¬ 
tion, and two are at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine 
Arts. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


135 


ing that first public library in our village 
may never be exactly determined. I do 
know that the first paper I ever read be¬ 
fore a women’s club was on the life of 
Angelica Kauffmann. And I became so 
interested as time went on in the life-work 
of Pestalozzi, that the first return to my 
native land was primarily to visit 1 all the 
places where he had lived and taught. I 
believe much, if not all, of this is due to 
the unostentatious labors of our good 
Frau Pfarrer in the little village of Wei- 
ach on the Rhine. 

1 See “A Pestalozzian Pilgrimage ” in the Chautauquan 
Magazine for September, 1901. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE NEEDLEWORK SCHOOL 

During those three years in the gram¬ 
mar school we girls had regular instruc¬ 
tions in needlework three half-days a 
week. In the needlework school every 
girl had to be able to knit a stocking com¬ 
plete before she was allowed to sew or do 
any kind of fancy work. 

It was in this school that I had my first 
lady teacher, Miss Willi, who was gentle, 
patient, and very pretty. 

We began our session with prayer; but 
instead of the teacher doing all the pray¬ 
ing, as was the rule in the other schools, 
Miss Willi used to call upon different 
ones of the class to pray. 

In a Swiss home not a moment must be 

wasted. Some handwork was always 

ready to pick up while one was waiting 

136 


IN SWITZERLAND 


137 


for something or somebody. After I 
came to this country it was often re¬ 
marked how steadily I applied myself to 
work. I had formed the habit of filling 
in every available moment with some sort 
of handwork. When the late war broke 
out and women and girls took so assidu¬ 
ously to knitting I was overjoyed; be¬ 
cause I had learned from experience that 
pleasurable handwork begets content¬ 
ment. I was sorry to see the novelty 
lapse as soon as the war was over. 

As I was able to make a stocking com¬ 
plete when I entered the needlework 
school, I was permitted to sew as soon as 
I had finished one pair. I had also 
learned to sew before this time, and to 
make such fancy stitches as were required 
to make those pretty balls every spring. 
So I was permitted during the first year 
to hem handkerchiefs and towels. The 
second year I made some aprons and 
other things. The third year I made a 
shirt for my brother. I remember how 


138 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


troublesome were the gussets in the shoul¬ 
ders and on each side-seam where it opens 
from the bottom a few inches. 

All this work was done by hand. We 
hadn’t even heard of sewing-machines at 
that time. On a shirt the center plait in 
front had to be “ stitched.” This was 
done by means of very fine and regular 
back-stitching, always exactly two threads 
of the material taken up with every stitch. 

During that third year I also learned 
to do hemstitching, and I hemstitched a 
sheet and some towels for Mother. Last 
of all, I did the piece of work shown in 
the accompanying picture. 

When a Swiss girl marries she has a 
large dower of linens of every kind, and 
every piece has her initials worked in it. 
For this reason it was quite the fashion 
for girls to make samplers. They would 
need these designs not only on their own 
linens, but they would need the initials of 
friends and kinsfolk for whom they might 
wish to make presents. It was also nee- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


139 


essary to have several kinds of alphabets 
to choose from. 

This sampler was mounted under glass 
in a gilt frame, and was on exhibition at 
the close of the third year, together with 
the hemstitched pieces and the shirt. 
After that the sampler had an honored 
place on the wall of our living-room. I 
remember how bad I felt when the frame 
and glass had to be removed, and the 
sampler was folded like any other piece of 
needlework, and packed in a trunk ready 
for our departure for the new world. 

The chances are that this sampler 
would never again have seen the light of 
day had it not been espied one day, long 
after we came to America, by a friend 
who has a fine feeling for things quaint 
and old. I was rummaging in a trunk 
and somehow this sampler came in sight. 
My friend took it out and asked my per¬ 
mission to have it framed. Of course, I 
consented, and for nearly twenty years it 
has been hanging in the vestibule of her 


140 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


home. When I found that I had a use 
for it in connection with this book, she 
kindly restored some of the stitches that 
had become worn, and had this photo¬ 
graph made. The sampler now bids fair 
to become an heirloom, thanks to the dear 
friend who has taught me better to ap¬ 
preciate it for its precious associations. 



1 


The Sampler bids fair to become an Heirloom.— Page 140. 

It is customary for every Swiss girl to make a sampler, that she may 
have different kinds of initials to mark her linens. 





i 




CHAPTER XIV 


POPULAR HOLIDAYS AND FOLK-LORE 

There were many holidays in the 
course of a year, but I recall only one 
when we were excused from school. All 
the others seemed to come on Sundays, or 
else the celebration was postponed until 
evening when we children had to go to 
bed. 

The one full holiday was that known as 
Fasnacht, and it fell on February 14th. 
On that day children dressed in fantas¬ 
tic attire and formed processions. Boys 
would try to imitate their fathers; for in¬ 
stance, a boy whose father was a chimney¬ 
sweep would black his face and carry a 
small ladder and broom and brush. A 
boy whose father was an officer in the 

army would dress as a soldier. Girls and 

141 


142 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


women would dress as fairies. In the 
evening would be bonfires and singing. 

During a visit to my old home I spent 
a Fasnacht Day in Zurich and watched 
many of the children’s parades. In every 
one of those parades the flag so dear to 
every Swiss—the white cross in a red field 
—was borne by the leader. The emblem 
of the Red Cross, being the same design 
with the colors reversed, was inspired 
by the Swiss flag and adopted in honor of 
it because the Red Cross Society was 
founded in Switzerland. It will be inter¬ 
esting for any girls who did Red Cross 
work during the war to look up the his¬ 
tory of Dr. Jean Henri Dunant, founder 
of the Red Cross, who died in 1910. 

What appealed most to us children on 
Fasnacht Day was the Fasnacht cake, a 
sort of shortcake liberally sprinkled with 
caraway seeds. My godfather always 
supplied me plentifully with this delicacy. 

Kirmess was a summer holiday which 
always came on Sunday. It was cele- 




Fasnacht Day in Zurich.— Page 142 . 

The beautiful Swiss Hag, a white cross on a red Held, is displayed on all festive occasions. 






IN SWITZERLAND 


143 


brated with dancing all afternoon and 
evening, and a late supper at the inn. 
For us children there were candy-stands 
out in the open, and we spent our hoarded 
cash for lozenges, each of which always 
had a verse in the wrapper. One such 
verse I remember: 

“Labor, temperance, and rest 
Keep the coin from the Doctor’s vest.” 

Kaiserstuhl was always gaily decorated 
at Kirmess time, and they usually had 
either an outdoors play or a pageant, in 
addition to the regular Kirmess fair. Once 
Marie Pilger called for me to see a won¬ 
derful pageant that was to be given by the 
young people and the school children. 
Marie’s home was in one of the old castles 
of which there were many in that town. 
The entrance was a high, arched door, 
and the living-room was reached through 
dark halls and stairways. The sleeping- 
rooms were still higher up in a sort of 
turret, and the walls were just plastered, 


144 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


not nicely finished in wood like those in 
our house. As I grew older I noticed 
those things more than I had done before. 
Whether it was the general spookishness 
of the house or my growing fondness for 
Mother and brother, and for my own 
home, I do not know; but again I became 
homesick. Marie had to take me home, 
and miss seeing the pageant, and she 
never called for me after that. 

In the fall we always had a sort of fam- 

•J 

ily holiday, or picnic, as it would be called 
here. We would drive to the woods in 
our spring wagon on a Saturday and go 
nutting. Every Swiss child likes to lay 
up a supply of nuts for Berchtold’s Day, 
and with the first falling of them we 
began our hoarding. Five nuts make 
a “ hock,” and a hock consists of four 
nuts placed close together so as to form 
a square with the fifth nut laid on top. I 
used to have my hocks spread out on 
shelves in the attic. Neighbor Jacques 
had his spread out on a table in the 


IN SWITZERLAND 


145 


grain house. He always had more 
than I. 

On Berchtold’s Day, which is the sec¬ 
ond of January, when the holiday fes¬ 
tivities were at their height, neighborhood 
parties gathered and had nut-eating 
feasts. When everybody had their fill 
they began to sing. At that time brother 
and I usually had to go to bed. Fortu¬ 
nately our room was just above the liv¬ 
ing-room, where a hole over the tile stove 
admitted warmth and also sounds. Many 
a night we went to sleep listening to the 
beautiful Swiss songs and yodels. Espe¬ 
cially did we enjoy the well-known 
“ Ranz des Vaches.” 

Robert, one of our apprentices, had an 
exceptionally good voice and was a re¬ 
markable yodeler. He was always the 
leader of all the merriment. 

Another annual picnic in our family 
occurred after the leaves had fallen from 
the forest trees. Then we emptied our 
bed-ticks in a corner of the garden and 


146 WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 

took them to the woods in our biggest 
wagon. There we refilled them with 
fresh leaves until they were full to burst¬ 
ing, and rode home on top of them. As 
we boarded all our apprentices and 
helpers, we had to make several such trips 
to get all the beds renewed. 

Our holiday festivities consisted largely 
of good things to eat and to drink, which 
were baked and roasted and brewed days 
and weeks before. During those festal 
days certain children took advantage of 
the joviality of the people. They went 
about disguised as troubadors and sang or 
declaimed wherever they gained admis¬ 
sion. My brother and I wanted very 
much to go, for we had learned to sing to¬ 
gether a number of songs, I soprano and 
he tenor; but Father would never consent 
to our going. Two girls that came every 
year were schoolmates of mine. Their 
father was known as “ Finkehans.” 
“ Finke ” is the Swiss name for a house 
shoe that is made of tailor’s selvedges and 


IN SWITZERLAND 


147 


thickly lined with fleece. An ancestor of 
Finkehans had been in the business of 
making these shoes, and the name ad¬ 
hered to the family. These Finkehans 
girls always came reciting poetry and 
dressed as fairies. 

Another holiday feature occurred on 
Christmas Eve, in which these girls also 
took part. Soon after dark we would 
hear tinkling of cow-bells and singing and 
yodeling. Then presently there burst 
into the house a company of boys and 
girls disguised and masked, carrying bags 
which they expected to have filled by the 
time the rounds of the village folk had 
been made. At our house there were al¬ 
ways baskets of apples ready for them. 
My first recollection of these visitors is 
that on seeing them burst into the house I 
was so frightened that I crawled under 
the tile stove and refused to come out 
until the Finkehans girls took off their 
masks and made themselves known to me. 
After that I was privileged to dispense 


148 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


the apples, and so on all through the later 
years. 

The last day of the year, Sylvester 
Day, was observed in both homes and 
schools. Whoever was last to rise on that 
day was Sylvester in the home, and who¬ 
ever came last to school was Sylvester at 
school. One year I was late in school on 
that day, and as I walked in, the roar of 
“ Sylvester! ” was so deafening that my 
knees caved. I had to catch hold of the 
door-latch to keep from falling. 

There was one holiday that my brother 
and I had all to ourselves. It was when 
our Greta was married to our hired man 
Jacob. Although my brother and I were 
the only attendants, the ceremony had to 
be in the church. On that occasion I 
wore for the first time a real hoop-skirt. 
Up to that time we girls used to make 
them by sewing wild grape-vines into our 
petticoats. The marriage of Jacob and 
Greta caused considerable stir in our 
neighborhood, because both had been with 


IN SWITZERLAND 


149 


us some years and were much respected 
among the villagers. As we walked up 
toward the church I remember seeing 
faces peer from behind the engine-house 
to the left and our wash-house to the 
right, and Jacques peered from behind 
the walnut-tree. 

In Switzerland it was a common thing 
among well-to-do people to prolong wed¬ 
ding festivities several days, the guests 
remaining to feast, to dance, to parade 
around, staying nights at hotels and at 
the homes of kinsfolk. I remember many 
such occasions in Weiach, notably the one 
when the miller wedded the daughter of 
one of our rich citizens. (I remember 
that miller so well because the first ride I 
ever had on an elevator was when he took 
me from the bottom to the top of his mill 
with a load of grain-sacks.) The lady, 
who had known my mother as a girl, had 
attended her wedding three whole days, as 
she often told me. The wedding at which 
I got my new mother was only one day, 


150 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


and that of Greta and Jacob was only half 
a day. It was already near noon when we 
formed that little procession to the church 
and immediately after the ceremony we 
went to our home and had dinner. After 
that Greta and Jacob went to their own 
home and that ended the wedding festivi¬ 
ties. 

It was customary in those days for a 
bride to be married at the home of the 
bridegroom, and the arrival of a bride in 
our village was an event to us children. 
The conveyance was a wagon with a 
broad flat top on which the furniture she 
brought as part of her dower was set up 
to look like a room. The bride was usu¬ 
ally seated in an easy-chair beside her 
spinning-wheel, which would have a hank 
of shining flax on it tied with a bright rib¬ 
bon. And there would be the four-poster 
piled high with huge feather-beds and 
downy pillows, and a bureau, wardrobe, 
table, chest, etc. 

Neither my new mother nor any of my 


IN SWITZERLAND 


151 


aunts came in that way, because they had 
always lived in our village. Greta also 
did not have any such display. During 
one of my visits to Switzerland I learned 
that Greta had died and that Jacob was 
living up on the Gibisniit, a near moun¬ 
tain. With some cousins I undertook to 
climb up there. We called upon Jacob, 
and he fell into a reminiscent mood. The 
conversation turned to that small wedding 
party, and he said, reflectively, “ Yes, 
Luisa, there were only good people at 
that wedding.” 

No story of Switzerland is complete 
without some goats in it. On the day we 
visited Jacob we carried a picnic lunch. I 
was asked to prepare the cucumbers, and 
as I began to peel one, there were excla¬ 
mations of “ Oh, how queer,” and so on. 
They said they always first hollowed out 
the cucumbers, removing all the seeds, 
then peeled and sliced them. But I pre¬ 
pared those the American way, and they 
were relished. 


152 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


While we were in the fullest enjoyment 
of our picnic lunch a flock of goats came 
and jumped, one after the other, upon 
our rough-hewn table, scattering the pic¬ 
nickers in all directions. Not only did 
the goats help themselves to all that was 
left of edibles, but one made away with a 
hat and another with a hand-bag. A 
member of the party had enough presence 
of mind to snap the last two marauders 
with her kodak. 



Uninvited Guests at a Picnic Table .—Page 152 . 

The goat is the poor man’s cow. 



CHAPTER XV 


SOME SIMPLE TASKS OF CHILDHOOD 

After my school-days began, I had 
every succeeding year less time for play. 
Already during the years of the primary 
school certain tasks were definitely as¬ 
signed to me. This is a common custom 
in Switzerland, and a Swiss child takes to 
it naturally. Pestalozzi, our pioneer in 
rational education, advised that children 
be early encouraged to perform “ such 
simple tasks about the home as would con¬ 
duce to normal growth, mental and physi¬ 
cal.” In this respect the Swiss have 
strictly followed his counsel. 

Our good Father Pestalozzi, innate hu¬ 
manitarian that he was, also advocated 
modes of discipline much milder than 
those he found in vogue. In this respect, 

judging from some of my experiences, his 

153 


154 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


countrymen have been somewhat slow to 
follow his lead. 

As to the “ simple tasks of childhood/’ 
I feel sure that I performed my share of 
them. But I enjoyed all except one. 
Still, I do not recall that I ever com¬ 
plained even of that one. 

The Swiss know how to make play out 
of work. They are great for doing many 
of their tasks in bees. The women have 
washing bees, straw-plaiting bees, sewing 
and knitting bees, and house-cleaning 
bees, etc. The men have haying and har¬ 
vesting and threshing bees. A bee is 
where a number of people, having similar 
work, do it together, helping each other 
in turn until all get their work done. In 
isolated sections like Swiss country dis¬ 
tricts, where the owners of the various 
parcels live together in villages, this is a 
social expedient which promotes the best 
kind of neighborship. 

We children learned from our elders to 
make our tasks as cheerful as possible. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


155 


My playmates and I had to knit all our 
own stockings. We used to get together 
and see who could knit the most. We 
even studied some of our lessons while 
knitting, because we did not need to look 
at our knitting all the time. I became 
such a confirmed knitter that once when I 
had to stay at home from school because 
of a wrenched wrist, I was knitting until 
Father told me to stop it. 

Vreneli also had the usual tasks of car¬ 
rying wood and water, etc. Another of 
her tasks was to help her father ring the 
church bells. She could ring the small 
one, and he could ring two at one time. 
Once I went with her into the belfry to 
help; but when those three hells began to 
ring it made such a deafening roar I was 
scared all but to death. I began to cry 
and I ran down the narrow stairs and out 
of the church as fast as I could, and never 
went up there again. 

One of my most agreeable tasks during 
the summer was the daily round of our 


156 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


orchards to gather the fallen fruit. 
Whenever my kratze got full and heavy, 
I left some of its contents here and some 
there, at homes of people who did not 
have orchards. This was according to 
Father’s orders. One of our orchards 
was near the Finkehans home, and there 
I often lightened my load. We had two 
cherry-trees at the top of a steep meadow 
bank. They were large black sweet 
cherries, and I always ate whatever I 
found. I made it a point to go there first 
while the kratze was empty, and after I 
had gathered all the cherries I sent the 
kratze rolling down the bank and rolled 
after it. 

My uncle, the postmaster, had some 
cherry-trees in the adjoining meadow and 
the branches hung very low. One day I 
found no cherries under our tree, so I 
took a few off those low branches. 

That evening I had to go to the post- 
office to mail a letter for Father. So im¬ 
portant was it, I had to deliver it to the 


IN SWITZERLAND 


157 


postmaster personally, instead of putting 
it into the box. I went with fear and 
trembling, afraid Uncle might have seen 
me take those cherries, or heard about it. 
What did my uncle do? He gave me a 
little basket of cherries. 

During haying time I always had to go 
along the rows of newly mown grass and 
pick out all the caraway stalks, let them 
dry in the sun, and tie them in bundles. 
Those seeds were used for various things 
cooked and baked. Vreneli and I always 
helped each other in turn with the cara- 
way picking. Meantime we feasted on a 
weed known as tabac, which had a sweet, 
juicy stalk and leaves, and on the little 
“ cheeses ” of the common cheesewort. 

Another of my steady jobs was to carry 
the noonday meal to our workers in dis¬ 
tant parcels of land. Swiss farmers live 
in villages and have their lands outlying, 
a parcel here, another there. One of our 
vineyards was across the Rhine in Baden, 
about two miles distant. Our maid al- 


158 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


ways went with the “ hands ” that worked 
there. As soon as I came from school at 
noon I had to start off with the dinner in 
a huge basket, which I wheeled in the 
baby cab to the Rhine bridge in Kaiser- 
stuhl. There our maid met me, took the 
basket on her head and carried it to the 
vineyard. The accompanying picture 
shows the new Rhine bridge and the an¬ 
cient castle mentioned in a previous chap¬ 
ter, and a stretch of the vine-clad Rhine 
bank in the background. On the Bade- 
ner side were gens d’armes, or tax-col¬ 
lectors, who inspected anything coming 
across. Mother always put some pie or 
cake in for them; otherwise they would 
disturb the dinner. 

I had to travel that distance of a mile 
and back and eat my dinner and get back 
to school within an hour. Sometimes this 
continued for weeks at a stretch, because 
the care of his vineyard was a matter of 
great pride to Father. Those vineyards 
stretch in long, narrow panels down the 





























IN SWITZERLAND 


159 


embankment, and no sooner is one kind 
of pruning finished than it is time to begin 
again and go through with another kind. 

One day Mother did not have the din¬ 
ner all packed when I got home from 
school. I saw her put in a big tureen 
heaping full of fried cakes, and several on 
top for the gens d’armes. Imagine me, 
a youngster just from school, having had 
nothing to eat since an early breakfast, 
with the odor of those piping hot fried 
cakes being wafted to me as I pushed that 
cab ahead. After I had the village of 
Weiach behind my back I tasted one from 
under the napkin (I was careful not to 
take the gens d’armes’). It tasted so 
good I took another, and another, and so 
on, I suppose. That evening the maid 
asked Mother why she had sent so few 
fried cakes, not even enough to go once 
around. Of course, suspicion turned to 
me. To make a long story short, I was 
severely, and as I afterward concluded, 
unjustly, punished. 


160 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


I cannot help comparing that occasion 
with another when, if ever, I deserved 
punishment. I had always a great crav¬ 
ing for beads, but for some reason I never 
had any given to me. One day at a neigh¬ 
bor’s house I tore the tassel off a beaded 
hand-bag. It was traced to me, and I 
expected to be severely punished. To 
my great surprise, my father said to me 
in the kindest manner, “ Child, if your 
mother knew that you had done such a 
thing she would turn around in her 
grave.” I know of nothing that ever 
went so direct to my heart as that mild 
and kindly reproof. 

During one of my visits to Miss Schap- 
pi’s school in Zurich I found her using 
glass beads of different sizes and colors. 
In teaching simple arithmetic she would 
give each child a box of beads, then 
say to the class, “ Now string your 
white and yellow beads 'three to one.” 
That meant thev should have a needle at 
each end of the thread, string three white 


IN SWITZERLAND 


161 


beads on each needle, then slip both 
threads through the yellow bead, and re¬ 
peat the exercise until the period for it 
expired. This made a little chain, and 
the exercise could be varied by using 
different numbers of beads and differ¬ 
ent colors. In this way she taught 
colors, number, and form in one and the 
same exercise. I marked how the girls 
fondled their little chains and laid them 
on their wrists as soon as they had an 
inch or so completed. It was certainly a 
pleasant exercise, and I felt sure that if 
I could have learned arithmetic in that 
way I would have loved instead of hated 
it. 

But to return to my simple tasks. One 
time I had to take a sack of wheat in our 
baby cart to the mill in Rhinefelden. It 
was an hour’s walk and through a dense 
forest. Lizzie went along to show me the 
way. When we came to a fork in the 
path she said we must take the one to the 
left. I followed her advice; but instead 


162 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


of arriving at the mill we came to the 
steep river bank on the edge of the forest. 
I recited hymn No. 213; it seemed to 
fit the case. After we recovered from 
the shock of fear we retraced our steps, 
took the right prong of the fork and 
reached the mill in due time. We had 
some refreshments while the wheat was 
being ground, and returned home in 
safety. After I related our experience 
to Father he said I need never go on such 
an errand again. 

In addition to all those things it was 
my steady job to keep the kitchen sup¬ 
plied with water from the village foun¬ 
tain. At first I carried it in my small 
gelte on top of my head. Vreneli also 
had a nice copper gelte and we used to go 
together. But Father didn’t like the idea 
of a child lifting that weight over the 
head, so he had a little “ tause ” made for 
me. A tause is in shape similar to a 
kratze, and has shoulder straps; but it is 
made of staves so it can hold liquids. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


163 


Boys as well as girls used to fetch and 
carry things in both tause and kratze. I 
could fill this tause at the fountain, then 
put my arms through the straps and walk 
off as straight as an arrow. In our 
kitchen there were four large copper 
geltes all in a row—Mother’s pride—and 
they had to be filled every day. I used 
this tause until we broke up our home to 
come to America; then I gave it along 
with some other things to Cousin Setti. 

I also had to keep the kitchen supplied 
with firewood, which had to be brought 
from the woodshed about thirty feet away. 
People who did not have woodsheds piled 
their firewood neatly around the house, 
up to and sometimes even around the 
windows. A neat woodpile is a char¬ 
acteristic of Swiss husbandry. There the 
wood was sheltered from rain by the far 
overhanging eaves which are a marked 
characteristic of Swiss architecture. This 
and the fetching of water was really the 
maid’s work; but she was such an excel- 



164 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


lent spinner that Mother preferred to 
have her give all the time she could to 
spinning. 

I wanted very much to learn how to 
spin, and Mother tried to teach me; but 
the threads slipped through my hands and 
onto the bobbin before I could get them 
smooth and fine enough to suit her. Some¬ 
times on winter evenings we had a spin¬ 
ning party, the ladies bringing their spin¬ 
ning-wheels. Those wheels were not 
bulky like some heirlooms I have seen, but 
slender and graceful. On such evenings 
the spinners sat alongside of the big table, 
the rest of us on the benches that lined the 
walls and the stove side, and the menfolks 
sang while the spinners filled their bob¬ 
bins. 

Of all my tasks the one that I did not 
enjoy had to be done in the cellar. More¬ 
over it always came in early spring when 
I wanted to play with my ball. About 
that time our potatoes became sprouty, 
and my job was to rub the sprouts off a 





I»oys as well as Girls fetch and carry things in both Taush 

and Kratze.— Page 163 . 























, • 





IN SWITZERLAND 


165 


big basketful every day until the whole 
binful was gone over. 

Vreneli and Lizzie had the same task 
at their house, and we used to help each 
other, making a “ bee ” of it. It wasn’t 
quite so dismal as to sit in the cellar alone. 
Our bin was always the last to get 
finished, but the girls helped me clear to 
the end. 


CHAPTER XVI 


AN EVENTFUL DECISION 

When at the age of twelve I was grad¬ 
uated from the grammar school I had to 
make a decision which affected my future 
far more than I realized. My choice lay 
between two schools. One was the village 
continuation school which was in session 
only three half days weekly. In this 
school were taught the common branches, 
with an increase of religious instruction 
preparatory for confirmation, which was 
compulsory. The other school was the 
District High School, a private institu¬ 
tion. 

My heart was set on attending the high 

school. I had a great desire to study 

French, which language was taught there 

as one of the leading branches. Once 

when rummaging in the attic for some- 

166 


IN SWITZERLAND 


167 


thing I came across an old French 
primer which had belonged to Father. 
Robert, who was a graduate of the 
District High School, had already taught 
me such simple words as pere, frere, mere, 
soeur, maison, etc., and thus stimulated 
my natural fondness for the language. 
This old primer was to me a very treas¬ 
ure. With the help of Robert I acquired 
quite a vocabulary, and so enamored was 
I of the study that it absorbed my every 
leisure moment. 

But there were obstacles to my enter¬ 
ing the District High School. My father 
had built a factory and had greatly en¬ 
larged his business. The close of the 
Civil War in America was followed by a 
financial depression which was felt all 
over Europe. I heard it discussed 
wherever men met to talk, and saw the 
ominous shakes of the heads. Rigid 
economy had to be practised on every 
hand. Mother proposed doing without a 
maid, counting on me to help some about 


168 


WHEN 1 WAS A GWL 


the home. At that time our family num¬ 
bered ten. And it was really not cus¬ 
tomary for girls in Weiach to attend 
higher schools. Only twice in all the his¬ 
tory of the village had it happened, and 
each time two girls attended at the same 
time. Mother objected because I would 
be the only girl from our village, with 
sixteen boys; and the village of Stadel, 
where the District High School was lo¬ 
cated, was an hour distant. 

Mother’s only sister lived in Stadel. 
Her husband, Dr. Hauser, as I learned 
later, was one of those who greatly 
favored my going to the high school, and 
who helped my father in reaching the de¬ 
cision which he did. But no new school 
dress was being made for me, so I took 
it for granted that I was not to go. 

The morning came when the District 
High School was to begin its spring ses¬ 
sion, at which new pupils entered. I had 
not altogether given up hope, so I was up 
early, and I tried to be prepared as far 


IN SWITZERLAND 


169 


as I could, in case I should be permitted 
to go. After breakfast I went into the 
garden and fumbled in that long flower¬ 
bed. Self-seeded larkspurs and snap¬ 
dragons had come up again, and I trans¬ 
planted some, in a desultory sort of way. 
To my great joy Father came out to me 
and said: “ Luisa, do you want to go to 
the District High School? ” I said, “ Oh 
yes, Father.” 

“ Then in God’s name, go,” was his 
short but impressive reply. I have re¬ 
membered the exact words all these 
years; and he bade me put on my Sunday 
dress as quickly as possible. 

I do not know where Mother was at 
the time. I remember only that when I 
came down-stairs, ready to go, Father had 
a packet lunch ready for me which he 
handed me in a small shopping-bag. He 
also gave me a coin with which to get a 
plate of soup at the inn. 

As I said before, and I think it bears 
repeating, Weiach has a most idyllic set- 


170 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


ting, and the road to Stadel led between 
those two rambling mountains, the Ho- 
brig on the left and the Schanzenberg on 
the right. On a clear day the snow-cov¬ 
ered Alps were in plain view all the way, 
just as they are portrayed in the Charle¬ 
magne picture. Two villages also had to 
be passed through, and by the way they 
contributed more boys to the District 
High School, but not a girl. 

I have not the slightest recollection 
what transpired from the time Father 
handed me that bag until I arrived in the 
schoolroom, although I have tried hard 
and often to recall some incident en route. 
I remember numerous incidents of my 
journeying to and from Stadel on other 
days; but my memory of the hour’s walk 
which brought me to my goal, the Dis¬ 
trict High School, is a complete blank. 
Years afterward when Robert had joined 
us in America we frequently reminisced; 
and he told me then that he and the others 
in the shop on that day saw Father put 


IN SWITZERLAND 


171 


me out of a window, and that I was still 
running when I disappeared at the bend 
in the road. 

Mother took it very hard to be so com¬ 
pletely overruled, and I do not wish her 
to be blamed for taking the stand which 
she did. She felt that the need to econ¬ 
omize was all-important at that time, and 
she disliked the idea of my going that dis¬ 
tance alone. Moreover, from conversa¬ 
tion which I overheard I know that she 
was sincere in the belief that girls had no 
need of higher education. The relative 
attendance at this school of sixteen boys 
to one girl from our village would indi¬ 
cate that such was the general belief. 

As I intimated before, the village 
schools in Switzerland have official visit¬ 
ors whose business it is to keep in touch 
with the schools assigned to them for in¬ 
spection. Our principal at the District 
High School was the same Mr. Reichling 
who had been for several terms inspector 
of the schools in Weiach. No man was 


172 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


ever more beloved by our villagers both 
young and old. 

Father cautioned me over and over 
just to be a very good girl and help 
Mother in every possible way, that every¬ 
thing would work out all right. It was at 
this time I began to sense more fully the 
spiritual meaning of many of the hymns I 
had learned in school. All unconsciously 
somehow I fell into the habit of reciting 
hymns on my way to and from school; 
and I do believe that I consecrated with 
this mode of prayer the whole length of 
that three-mile stretch of roadway. The 
hymn from which I derived most comfort 
and which seemed exactly to fit my case 
was that longest one in the hymn-book, 
No. 213, which I learned while doing pen¬ 
ance for my talkativeness in the gram¬ 
mar school. Years afterward in America 
I found a translation of it in my hymn- 
book. It was the chief inspiration of the 
temperance crusaders of 187-1'. Here is 
a translation of the first verce: 


IN SWITZERLAND 


173 


Give to the winds thy fears, 

Hope and be undismayed. 

God knows thy sighs and counts thy tears, 
God shall lift up thy head. 

Over and above all I was happy, for I 
had been successfully launched in the 
high school. Years afterward when with 
my sixteen-year-old son I visited my old 
home, I took him one day to Stadel and 
told him some of the history herein related. 

“You wanted an education badly,” 
was his terse comment. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE HIGH SCHOOL-FIRST YEAR 

Despite tardiness, my reception by 
Mr. Reichling was most cordial. He 
conducted me to the one vacant seat in the 
girls’ row; yes, there was just one vacant 
seat. It seemed as if it had been reserved 
for me. 

The girls’ row—that sounds as if there 
were only one row of seats for girls in 
that schoolroom. Well, such was the 
fact. The school had originally been in¬ 
tended for boys only. For them there 
were ten rows of seats, each accommodat¬ 
ing six pupils, so the proportion of boys 
to girls was about sixty to six. From 
Weiach it was sixteen to one. 

Some of the contributing villages and 

174 


IN SWITZERLAND 


175 


hamlets had not done as well as little Wei- 
ach, had not sent even one girl. On the 
other hand, the small village of Neerach 
(I think it deserves to be specifically men¬ 
tioned) had sent two: one was a physi¬ 
cian’s, the other a farmer’s daughter. 
Stadel had contributed two, one the 
daughter of the innkeeper; the other was 
Caroline, daughter of our principal. 
And there was one girl from a more dis¬ 
tant village who attended here because 
she did not like the teacher in her own 
district. She was the daughter of a rich 
manufacturer. Considering that this was 
a private school, we girls were a demo¬ 
cratic coterie. Among the sixteen boys 
from Weiach was my cousin the Postrudi 
and my neighbor Jacques. They were 
one class ahead of me. 

Owing to the distance, and the large 
amount of home work always required 
which necessitated carrying books back 
and forth, the boys carried knapsacks. I 
carried my things in the old shopping- 


176 


WEEN I WAS A GIRL 


bag. I also continued to wear my Sun¬ 
day dress, and bore the disgrace twice of 
also wearing it on Sundays. Then 
Mother bought me a new one. I walked 
by myself, entirely ignoring the boys. 
Sometimes they went at a rapid rate and 
overtook me; sometimes they loitered and 
I passed them. 

In school we studied history, French, 
geography, literature, botany, a little of 
art and music, and in arithmetic we had 
what were called examples with propor¬ 
tions. I still have my copy-book of those 
examples, and they look as familiar to me 
now as a page of Sanskrit. How I ever 
solved those examples is beyond my com¬ 
prehension. It makes me dizzy now even 
to look at them; and of one thing I am 
sure, I never was a “ copycat.” 

During the first year our compositions 
dealt with almost every subject under the 
sun, from poets to cowherds. But after 
all there need be no great diversity even 
between these. Did not Emerson say 


IN SWITZERLAND 


177 


that only poets should be cowherds? But 
here are two compositions in my copy¬ 
book that need revision. One is on Ven¬ 
ice—“ An Austrian city, etc.” The other 
describes how sumptuously and magnifi¬ 
cently the Russian Czar lives in his win¬ 
ter palace. 

In the high school we were not merely 
stuffed with information; we were really 
encouraged to think and to acquire 
knowledge. Mr. Reichling would give us 
the theme of a story and let us elaborate 
it according to our own ideas. Every so 
often he had us describe our journeys to 
and from school. These could be made 
via the highway, or by detours on either 
side along adjacent foothills of the Ho- 
brig, the Schanzenberg and the Gibisniit. 
Topography was the same from day to 
day, to be sure, but vegetation, for¬ 
estry, birds, flowers and even the land¬ 
scape differed with the passing seasons. 
Our route was due south, so that on a clear 
day we were in full view of the Alps very 


178 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


much as they are seen from the lake front 
in Zurich. Sometimes when the boys 
were loitering and I passed them, I over¬ 
heard them naming the different peaks. 

Our principal was a great believer in 
poetry as an educating and refining in¬ 
fluence, and he read to us daily some gem 
of literature. The beautiful poem on 
Switzerland by Adalbert von Chamisso 
filled my heart with pride for my native 
country. This is not the one I have de¬ 
scribed elsewhere. In this gem of verse 
the kings and potentates and lesser lumi¬ 
naries who annually visit Switzerland are 
asked what it is that draws them there. 
Is it because they wish to exchange the 
sceptre for a shepherd’s staff, or because 
they would fain find a resting-place in 
freedom’s soil? Then the poet draws a 
word picture in which he likens Switzer¬ 
land to a book written by the hand of God 
in script so colossal that Mt. St. Gott- 
hard is only a punctuation mark in it. 
My enthusiasm for the land of my birth 


IN SWITZERLAND 


179 


was further stimulated by Peter Hebei’s 
poems written in the Swiss dialect. 
Hebei was not a Swiss, but next to it; he 
lived just across the Rhine in what is 
known as the Black Forest. His poems 
were largely on nature subjects, strictly 
scientific as to facts, for he was a keen ob¬ 
server of so-called simple things. But he 
could invest the merest commonplaces 
with a fascinating mystery. His provin¬ 
cial style was irresistible to plain folk. 
His poem on the spider was committed to 
memory by our class as a work of con¬ 
summate art, and recited many times. 
Here the activities of the spider are por¬ 
trayed in terms so whimsical, and with so 
much fellow feeling that even the prim¬ 
mest housewife would almost hesitate to 
disturb a web. A single verse sums up 
the poet’s feeling: 

“0 Thierli, wie hesch mi verziickt, 

Wie bisch so clili und doch so gschickt; 
Wer het di an die Sache glehrt? 

Denkwol der wonis alii nahrt,” 


180 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


In other words: Little creature, how 
you have charmed me; so small you are 
and yet so clever! Who has taught thee 
all these things? No doubt He who cares 
for us all. 

Probably the poem by Hebei which is 
most popular with the Swiss, especially to 
those living along the Rhine, is the one 
entitled “ Die Wiese.” “ Wiese ” is the 
name of a river that flows from the Black 
Forest toward Switzerland near Basel, 
and there joins the Rhine. Hebei here 
idealizes Wiese as a charming maiden on 
her way to meet the Rhine, “St. Gott- 
hard’s big boy, a man grown now, proud 
and pompous like a Baseler solon.” In 
the description of the Rhine’s course from 
its source westward, places are mentioned 
which play a part in this story: Kaiser- 
stuhl, Eglisau, etc. At Basel the “ mar¬ 
riage certificate ” is procured. The lov¬ 
ers were previously engaged but had 
never met. Where the Rhine turns that 
right angle into Alsace, there the mar- 







IN SWITZERLAND 


181 


riage of lovely Wiese and noble Rhine 
takes place, and they are happy ever 
after. 

Schiller’s “Wilhelm Tell” was an¬ 
other favorite with our class. It is too 
well known to all the world to need any 
description here. In his “ Song of the 
Bell ” Schiller’s reference to the dead 
mother made a strong impression on me. 
I have found an excellent translation of 
it by Boring. 

After I had read this part of the poem 
I demanded to know the exact spot in our 
churchyard where my mother was buried. 
But the grave was in a section where the 
earth had been leveled. The friend who 
gave me that picture that she said re¬ 
sembled my mother, one day showed me 
about where the grave had been. Oh, 
how I used to haunt that section, wishing 
I might in some way be attracted to the 
exact spot, that I might kiss the earth 
which held my mother’s remains! 

A Swiss churchyard belongs to the 


182 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


commonwealth, and is usually large 
enough to last the community about 
twenty years. When it is filled, burials 
are again started at the place of begin¬ 
ning. No one may buy a burying lot. 
Each must take his chance and be buried 
when his turn comes, beside the one im¬ 
mediately preceding. It happened in 
Weiach that two women who had been 
lifelong enemies died only a few days 
apart, and so were buried side by side. 
One was Barbara our seamstress, the 
other her sister-in-law. 

Another of Schiller’s poems, “ The 
Partition of the Earth,” did not appeal to 
me at all at the time. In this poem 
Schiller has Zeus hand the earth over to 
mankind, to be divided among them. Ac¬ 
cordingly the agriculturist takes posses¬ 
sion of the acres, the sportsman the for¬ 
ests; the merchant fills his storehouses, 
the abbot claims the vineyards, the king 
takes tithe of all. After everything has 
found its owner, along comes the poet. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


183 


There is nothing left for him, and he 
throws himself at the feet of Zeus, la¬ 
menting his fate. Zeus, seeing that 
everything is gone, comforts the poet 
with the promise that henceforth and for¬ 
ever, whenever he so desires, he may share 
the god’s celestial abode with him. 

Years afterward on reading Emerson’s 
essay, “ The Poet,” I was struck by the 
similarity of thought of the two writers. 
Near the close of the last paragraph 
Emerson says: 

“ Thou shalt have the whole land for 
thy park and manor, the sea for thy bath 
and navigation, without tax and without 
envy; the woods and the rivers thou shalt 
own; and thou shalt possess that wherein 
others are only tenants and boarders.” 

Another simile of thought occurs in 
Goethe’s poem “ The Digger for Treas¬ 
ure ” and Delafontaine’s “ Le Laboureur 
et ses Enfants.” In the high school we 
had to read these two poems concurrently 
and write a treatise on them. In Goethe’s 


184 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


poem the digger works various enchant¬ 
ments in hopes of finding hidden treasure 
and consequent happiness. He is disil¬ 
lusioned by an apparition which informs 
him that only honest work is the magic 
which will bring true happiness and abid¬ 
ing treasures. The “ Laboureur ”—la¬ 
borer—at the point of death tells his chil¬ 
dren that treasure is hidden in their patri¬ 
monial acres; but he does not know the 
exact spot. After his death, while hunt¬ 
ing for the supposedly hidden treasure, 
they turn over and over every foot of the 
ground. As a result it became so fertile 
as to bring a marvelous harvest, and thus 
richly to reward them for their labor. 
Actual money or treasure was not found 
hidden away; labor was its own reward: 

“—Le pere fut sage 
De leur montrer avant sa mort 
Que le travail est un tresor.” 

During that first year we also read 
some of -ZEsop’s Fables in French, and 


IN SWITZERLAND 


185 


translated others into French. The joy 
of living for me was nearing the 
high-water mark: I began to think in 
French. 

In other branches of study I main¬ 
tained a respectable standing; but that 
was w r ork. The study of French was 
pure joy, unalloyed pleasure. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


EVERYTHING WORKING OUT ALL RIGHT 

During the first year in the high 

school I had some interesting experiences, 

outside of the school as well as in. In the 

first place, the sudden changes of weather 

in a mountain country like Switzerland 

%> 

are to be reckoned with, where one has 
daily to walk several miles in the country. 
Many a morning I started away from 
home under a clear sky, and before reach¬ 
ing school I would be overtaken by a sud¬ 
den shower. I traveled the longest dis¬ 
tance but one of any of the girls, and 
Mr. Reichling exerted a sort of fatherly 
care over me. Whenever I came to school 
in drenched garments he sent me over to 
Madame Reichling with a note. Then she 
would have me take off my wet garments 

and put on some of Caroline’s. At the 

186 


IN SWITZERLAND 


187 


close of school she would have mine dry 
and ready to put on again. 

It was our custom on leaving the school 
for the day to bid the principal good-bye 
with a handclasp as we passed him at the 
door. Whenever it looked threatening he 
would say as I passed him, 4 4 Luisa, you 
stay with us to-night.” At such times 
Caroline was always just as pleased as I 
was; for we came to be fondly attached to 
each other, and it was a friendship which 
has lasted through life. The evenings 
that I spent in that happy household 
were among the pleasantest of those 
years, for Madame Reichling was like a 
mother to me. 

* 

After my entrance into the high school 
my long visits to Grandfather ceased; at 
least I have no recollection of any. I was 
44 a big girl ” now, and my play days were 
over. I wrote occasional letters to 
Grandfather. 

During the summer vacation that first 
year I helj)ed Mother with dressing the 


188 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


flax in the field. After it was cut it had 
to be exposed to the sun, then moistened, 
and exposed again. This process was re¬ 
peated several times. Then I assisted 
with the heckling of it, and after it was 
spun I took the glossy skeins to the 
weaver who lived in one of the villages 
through which I had to pass on my way 
to school. After it was woven it was 
taken to the dyer in Eglisau to be made 
into blue print; and then I got a new 
school dress. 

About that time Father also bought me 
a new school-bag, one with straps which 
I could hang over a shoulder, tourist 
fashion. When winter came that first 
year I had to have a warm outer garment. 
Up to this time I had worn knitted jack¬ 
ets. To my great disgust a tailor was 
hired to come to the house and make me 
a garment out of Father’s old army 
mantle. Of all things, a man to make a 
garment for me; and he was one of that 
“ Finke ” family known in the village as 


IN SWITZERLAND 


189 


the Finke Schneider. Schneider means 
tailor. I remember the enormous collar 
he put on it, quilted and stitched criss¬ 
cross, not at all like the collars on the 
mantles which the other girls wore. The 
result was that I more often carried that 
mantle on my arms than on my back, ex¬ 
cept when I was on the long stretches be¬ 
tween villages where there were no 
houses. 

As might be expected, I took a severe 
cold and had to stay at home several days. 
It was a practice with Mr. Reichling to 
visit any of his pupils who were absent 
more than a day or two. I think he util¬ 
ized such occasions as a pretext to get a 
glimpse into the home life of the pupil 
and to cultivate kindly relations with the 
parents. On the occasion of his visit to 
our house Father was not at home; so it 
fell to Mother to entertain him. As 
usual, I was knitting. After he had had 
a few words with me, Mother took him 
into the next room, and I heard her in- 


190 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


quire about my conduct. His answer 
was most favorable as to my work, but he 
added, “ Luisa and Caroline like to whis¬ 
per pretty well.” The same old failing. 

During that first summer I was the 
only girl who carried a lunch to school. 
The other girls who came from a distance 
dined at the inn. It was not very pleas¬ 
ant to be in the schoolroom alone with all 
those boys, perhaps twenty or thirty al¬ 
together. Caroline very kindly invited 
me to spend my noon hours in her sum¬ 
mer-house, and there she taught me to 
embroider linen. In Switzerland, instead 
of napkin rings, they use linen cases that 
are made similar to an envelope, with a 
monogram on the flap and some sort of 
a fastener. After a meal the napkin is 
folded and placed in the case. It serves 
the purpose well, and is more sanitary 
than the ring. Any one boarding away 
from home is expected to have one. I 
made me such a case during my leisure 
hours in that summer-house and put on it 


IN SWITZERLAND 


191 


the initial G from the third alphabet in 
my sampler. I felt that I might need it 
some day after I should have been gradu¬ 
ated from the high school. 

It got to be a common thing for me to 
do errands for my father on the way to 
school. He was the only locksmith in 
the district. I delivered bills for him 
along the way, and often collected the 
money. 

Sometimes also people would give me 
messages to take to Father. I have occa¬ 
sion to remember one such incident most 
vividly. A woman called to me as I passed 
her home and asked that Father send some 
one to mend a lock. Then she turned to 
her big boy who was crying and said in a 
threatening manner, “ Whatever that 
will cost I shall take off your back.” I 
repeated her remark to Father. A few 
days after the lock had been mended he 
gave me the bill to take to this woman, 
and he told me to read it and see whether 
it was all right. I didn’t know what he 


192 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


meant, because I knew nothing about his 
charges; but I read the bill. It was to 
the effect there would be no charge, and 
hence she would have no occasion to take 
anything off the boy’s back. That lad 
later wandered to America and found my 
father. We had many Sunday dinners at 
his home. About thirty years later when 
my father lay dead in our home this same 
lad, a middle-aged man then, shed tears 
over him. 

I think the way Father let me go to 
the high school was such a shock to 
Mother that she couldn’t get over it right 
away. For a while she was rather cool. 
But something seemed suddenly to change 
her back to her former self. It was after 
the annual church holiday known as 
Thanks, Penance, and Prayer Day which 
corresponds in some respects to the Amer¬ 
ican Thanksgiving. All of a sudden 
Mother became so amiable again that it 
seemed as though she couldn’t do enough 
for me. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


193 


About that time there was a fair in 
Kaiserstuhl. Booths were erected along 
the main street where everything was for 
sale that one could think of. Mother took 
my brother and me, and hardly a booth 
was passed but that she asked me if I 
didn’t want something there. I remem¬ 
ber I got a string of lovely beads, and 
other things. 

About that time Mother also made an 
arrangement with Aunt Hauser for me to 
stay there during bad weather. Long be¬ 
fore that time Father had asked me if I 
didn’t want to make something for 
Mother’s name-day. We agreed on a 
pair of slippers and he gave me money 
for canvas and the worsteds. I selected a 
design in my sampler, and this was some 
of the fancy work I did during noon 
hours in the summer-house. When I had 
those slipper tops finished Father had 
them nicely mounted, and Mother was 
very much pleased with the gift. 

At that time my brother was attending 


194 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


the primary school, but for some reason 
Father and some other citizens took their 
children out and sent them to the school 
in the next village through which I had 
to pass on my way to high school. I 
took charge of my brother on his way to 
school and returning; gradually other 
parents looked to me to have a watchful 
eye also over their children. 

The time had come when my attending 
the high school was a matter of conveni¬ 
ence to the family, and everything was 
working out all right, just as Father had 
predicted it would. 


CHAPTER XIX 


GIRLISH PLANNINGS 

The custom of exchanging daughters 
was in vogue in my day in Switzerland. 
It was this: after a girl has graduated 
from the high school, or any school where 
she has studied a foreign language, and 
wishes to perfect herself in that language, 
her parents will try to exchange her for a 
year or two for a daughter in some family 
who wishes to perfect herself in the lan¬ 
guage she has been studying. Such 
an exchange is always made between 
families of about the same social stand¬ 
ing, and these families are usually brought 
together through some advertising bureau. 
In the respective homes into which these 
exchanging girls go each takes the place 
of the absent daughter, and calls the heads 

of the house Father and Mother. 

195 


196 WHEN I WAS A GIRL 

In my part of Switzerland, a governess 
had to be able to teach French, and to 
speak it fluently. In the French-speak¬ 
ing part, or in the Walschland as we 
called it, she had to be able to teach Ger¬ 
man. 

It is a firmly rooted principle in the 
Swiss mind that one is not educated, nor 
fit to enter upon a self-supporting career, 
until one has “ eaten strange bread,” as 
they term it. That is, one must have 
lived away from home and learned how 
the outside world lives. Boys and young 
men get this experience when, after learn¬ 
ing a trade or profession, they enter upon 
their journeyman career. That is, they 
travel for a term of years, working short 
spells here and there in different coun¬ 
tries. Father’s helpers in the shop were 
such journeymen. In this way they per¬ 
fect themselves in any languages which 
they have learned in school, and they see 
strange countries and strange peoples be¬ 
fore they settle down for life. They get 


IN SWITZERLAND 


197 


that finishing touch to their education 
which the Swiss deem indispensable. 

The Cantons where girls from our part 
of Switzerland liked best to go were 
Geneva, Neuchatel, and Vaud, the part 
of Switzerland known as the Walschland. 
The city of Zurich was very popular with 
girls from the Walschland. Already 
during the first year in the high school 
Caroline and I were wont to exchange 
our views as to what we would like to do 
after school, when we should have finished 
our exchanges. Caroline’s choice was 
that of a modiste; I set my heart on being 
a governess. I knew some young ladies 
who had been in Yverdon in the Canton 
Vaud, the city in which Pestalozzi had 
had his world-renowned institute. The 
very name of Yverdon was music in my 
ears, and it was my great ambition to go 
there to “ finish my education,” as we 
called it. I felt quite sure that Mother 
would never consent to an exchange; but 
one of those young ladies who had been in 


198 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


Yverdon had made her own way. I felt 
confident that I could do the same. So 
I entered upon the second year in the 
high school with Yverdon firmly set as 
my goal, although secretly, except as 
Caroline and I exchanged confidences. 


CHAPTER XX 


MISCELLANIA 

I said that we had also some instruc¬ 
tion in art and music. That in art was 
negligible; it consisted mostly in dashing 
off something in water colors for our par¬ 
ents at holiday time, a wreath with a 
verse in it. But in music we had an ex¬ 
cellent vocal teacher. Mr. Reichling 
claimed not to have a voice for singing, 
so he engaged another teacher for that 
branch. 

I said he “ claimed ” not to have 
a voice. It was his custom during the 
spring and summer to take us for occa¬ 
sional excursions up the Gibisniit. In 
fact he could not do otherwise. The very 
first pleasant day in spring the whole sec¬ 
ond class would shout as he entered the 

199 


200 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


schoolroom, “ Allons sur la montagne!” 
Of course, he gave in to them and we all 
went. I remember once we went up the 
Stadler Berg in which there is a cave 
large enough to hold us all comfortably. 
While in that cave we sang one of our na¬ 
tional songs. I stood next to Mr. 
Reichling and I heard his baritone voice 
ring out clearly; and to me it was so 
sweet that whenever I think of the inci¬ 
dent I can see him standing there and— 
yes—I can hear those tender crooning 
strains. I am living that scene over 
again this very minute, as I have done 
many times. The song we sang in that 
cave was an ode to Helvetia, the Swiss 
Goddess of Liberty. It is sung to the 
tune of “ America,” as I learned after 
coming here. One verse in it praises the 
sons of Helvetia marching joyfully to 
battle. When I visited Switzerland in 
1910 I was glad to find that the most 
popular national song was not a martial 
one. It was the “ Psalm of the Swiss ” 


IN SWITZERLAND 


201 


in which there is no mention of wars or 
battles. It glorifies nature and exalts 
God the Creator of all that is glorious in 
nature. It is written by Leonard SVid- 
mer of Zurich, and it portrays beautifully 
the Swiss conception of the Creator. I 
have found an excellent translation, and 
deem it not out of place to give it here: 

PSALM OF THE SWISS 

When thou com’st with reddening dawn 
Thee I see in rays of morn, 

Through eternity and time 
Lord sublime! 

When the Alps are crimson glowing 
Be your prayers, free Switzers flowing, 
Unto God, whose father hand 
Leads you to His heavenly land. 

When the shades of eve are here 
Thee I see in starry sphere— 

Thee as friend of man adored, 

Loving Lord! 

From yon shining realm elysian 
Grant to me that blessed vision 
Which true spirits understand: 

God, in heavenly fatherland. 



202 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


If thick mists the heights enshroud 
Thee I see in seas of cloud— 

Thee whose depth no man can learn 
Loved eterne! 

Low, o’er vapors gray victorious 
Leads the sun his pageant glorious, 
Bidding earthlings understand 
God, in heavenly fatherland. 

As thou ridest the raging blast 
Be thyself our refuge fast 
Whose fixed purpose cannot err, 

Rescuer! 

In each night of storm and terror, 
Childlike trusting without error, 

May our spirits understand 
God, in heavenly fatherland. 

As I have said before, Mr. Reichling 
had great faith in poetry as an educating 
medium. Often he would ask us to write 
from memory some choice verse or lofty 
sentiment, leaving us to decide what was 
choice or lofty. 

In those days I did not discern what his 
object was in his various methods of ex¬ 
ploring our intellects. I think now that his 
object in asking us to choose a lofty senti- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


203 


ment or choice verse was to make us exer¬ 
cise our taste in literary matters. It was 
the same principle that Miss Schappi 
employed, when she had her children cut 
beautiful pictures from old magazines 
and paste them into a book. Her object 
was to cultivate their taste by means of 
that exercise, and not merely to fill a 
scrap book. 

Once when we were asked to write some 
of those lofty sentiments I wrote this 
from Schiller: 

“Wo man singt da lass dich ruhig nieder, 
Bose Menschen haben keine Lieder.” 

After teacher had seen it, Caroline and 
I each looked at what the other had 
written. I could see at once that she was 
disappointed in mine. When I pressed 
her for an explanation she said, “ Don’t 
you know that Papa doesn’t sing? ” I 
felt so terribly over it that the incident 
was indelibly stamped on my mind. The 
translation of those lines is: Where they 


204 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


sing there you may rest in peace, evil 
people have no songs.” But Mr. Reich- 
ling could and did sing. 

He had some patent expressions which 
were so humorous that when I first heard 
them I could hardly restrain myself from 
laughing, but they would lose their flavor 
in translation. He kept some sort of a 
blank in which were squares marked off 
for the pupils. For any severe misde¬ 
meanor a black mark called a “ Strich ” 
was traced in the square. Cousin Rudi 
was given many a Strich because he used 
to play so hard during the noon recess 
that he would come into school with his 
face red as a lobster. Jacques was gener¬ 
ally well behaved; but he had a way of 
getting sudden headaches whenever a 
hard lesson was on the tapis; and a head¬ 
ache was considered sufficient to excuse 
one for the rest of the day. I remember 
hearing one Schultz say more than once 
that he wished he could purchase a dose of 
Jacques’ headaches. That same Schultz 


IN SWITZERLAND 


205 


afterward married my chum Caroline. 
Then she ceased to be a modiste and be¬ 
came the wife of a station-agent and 
helped sell railroad tickets and flag trains. 

Those high school lads were the pride 
of their respective villages. They were 
all being trained in athletics such as lead 
gradually to the military training which 
every Swiss youth undergoes to fit him 
for that “ standing army,” which does not 
stand at all but stays quietly at home. 
But let there be the slightest occasion for 
defense of the homeland, and in twenty- 
four hours they are “ standing,” two 
hundred and fifty thousand strong. Those 
high school lads had a sprightly step, and 
their knapsacks gave them a natty air. 
How they passed the time as they wan¬ 
dered back and forth day after day along 
the main road, or skirting the foothills of 
those adjacent mountains, was a closed 
book to me; I kept so modestly aloof from 
them. 

Friend Robert, who joined us later in 


206 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


America, told me that the coterie of lads 
with whom he had attended the high 
school used to observe the conduct of birds 
along the way. Years later, when I be¬ 
came interested in our wild birds, he sent 
me an account of his observation of some 
storks. I will give it here in his own 
good English: 

“ That storks are possessed of a certain 
instinct to discern right from wrong has 
been proven to the writer by observing 
them to hold a sort of court, at a time 
when they were assembling in large num¬ 
bers. Going home from school once we 
noticed a large number of storks in a 
swampy place, posted in a circle. In the 
center stood the culprit over which sen¬ 
tence had to be passed. Their loud and 
violent chatter indicated that they were in 
dead earnest about their deliberations. 
But since it was time for us to go home 
we did not wait to see the finale of the 
proceedings. Naturalists tell us that 
storks often pass death sentence, in which 
case they plunge on the defendant and 
peck him to death. The observation of 
stork life during several years has con- 


IN SWITZERLAND 


207 


vinced me that these birds, so beautiful in 
their appearance and so graceful in their 
every movement, are possessed—if not of 
reason, then of a highly developed instinct 
for which they well deserve the protection 
which they enjoy.” 

There was a stork’s nest on the church 
tower in Stadel, the pride and joy of the 
villagers. Those were probably the storks 
that attracted the flock which held court, 
and which were observed by Robert and 
the other boys that day. 

Let us hope that those Weiacher lads, 
and all the others who traveled miles to 
the high school in Stadel, got a proper 
amount of good out of their daily jour- 
neyings in that beautiful and interesting 
country. 



CHAPTER XXI 


THE HIGH SCHOOL—SECOND YEAR 

In my Cahier Frarn^ais of those days, 
which I have treasured all these years, are 
several of Delafontaine’s fables. Origi¬ 
nally they were in verse, but we rendered 
in prose such familiar ones as “ Le Singe 
et le Chat,’’ “ Le Loup et la Cigogne,” 
“ La Cigale et la Fourmi,” “ Les orreilles 
du Lievre,” and others. Delafontaine, 
like JEsop, found animals a more inter¬ 
esting subject to write about than hu¬ 
man beings. “ Je me sers des animaux 
pour instruire des homines,” he said in his 
dedication; which is to say: I employ ani¬ 
mals in order to teach men. He said 
further that they all speak, even the fishes. 

History next engaged our attention. 
My Cahier Fran^ais contains biograph¬ 
ical sketches of 


208 


IN SWITZERLAND 209 

\ 

Phillipe, Roi de Macedoine. 

Alexandre le Grand. 

Soliman II. 

Cosme de Medicis. 

Francois I, Roi de France. 

Henry IV, Roi de France. 

Charles XII, Roi de Suede. 

Frederic II, Roi de Prusse. 

Pierre le Grand, etc., etc. 

I am disappointed that among all these 
biographies there is not one of a woman, 
nor even one written by a woman. But 
I recall that in our French reader there 
were tributes to two women: Beran- 
ger’s “Adieux de Marie Stuart,” and De- 
lavigne’s “ Mort de Jeanne d’Arc.” 

Mr. Reichling also laid great stress on 
Delavigne’s “ Christophe Colomb,” espe¬ 
cially the last verse, and most emphatic¬ 
ally the last line. At the time it did not 
interest me especially; we had had so 
much about Christopher Columbus in his¬ 
tory. It did interest me later on because 
we came to the country that was discov- 


210 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


ered by Christopher Columbus. That 
last verse referred to is as follows: 

i ‘Oh genereux sanglots qu’il ne peut retenir! 
Que dira Ferdinand; l’Europe, ravenir! 

Ill la donne a son roi cette terre feconde; 

Son roi va le payer des maux qu ’il a soufferts; 
Des tresors, des bonneurs, en exchange d’une 
monde, 

Un trone, ah! c’etait peu! Que regut-il? des 
f ers. ’* 

Irons, chains, were his reward for dis¬ 
covering the new world. 

During that second year I also stayed 
a great deal of the time at Aunt Hauser’s. 
The oldest of the Hauser girls, Susette, 
was only two years younger than I. 
Louisa, the next, was nine. She spelled 
her name with an “ o.” When I wanted 
to spell my name that way it was not al¬ 
lowed because it was written the other 
way in the baptismal certificate and on 
the church records. But after we came 
to America, and my baptismal certificate 
was lost, anyway, I began to spell my 


IN SWITZERLAND 


211 


name so as to make it American. About 
that time I began also to wish that my 
mother’s name Susanna had been given 
to me in baptism, instead of Luisa. Once 
I was talking to a friend about it and she 
said that I could just add it to the name 
I had. This I did, and began to write 
my name Susanna Louise. 

Speaking of altering names to make 
them American, I know of an instance 
where this was carried too far. One day 
a friend invited me to go with her to meet 
some Swiss people by the name of Judy. 
I remarked that this was an unusual name 
for a Swiss. After I became acquainted 
with these people I learned that their 
name originally had been Tschudi, and 
that they were descendants of the re¬ 
nowned Tschudi family. I expressed 
surprise that they had altered and prac¬ 
tically discarded that name so ancient and 
so highly respected. Their excuse was 
that when they bought their property, the 
name was recorded in the deed and on the 


212 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


court records as Judy, and that they 
spelled it that way in order to hold the 
property. I said that if it were I, I 
would keep the name and let the prop¬ 
erty go. 

There were three younger Hauser chil¬ 
dren. They had a governess and there 
was a housekeeper. The Hauser home 
was built in that year so significant to 
Americans—1812,—as a plate on the ceil¬ 
ing in the living-room indicated. When 
I first knew it, Dr. Hauser, Sr., the origi¬ 
nal owner, was still living in it. Aunt 
and Dr. Hauser, II, were living in a 
wing which had been expressly built for 
them. But during my high school days 
Uncle Hauser was head of the mansion, 
and it is one that bids fair to last for cen¬ 
turies. Switzerland is rich in forests, 
and houses are built of the best timber. 
During my last visit I found Dr. Hau¬ 
ser, III, occupying the paternal home. 

The Hauser home was in some respects 
similar to the Pfarrhaus in Weiach. It 





The Hauser Home was built in 1812. — Page 212. 

Stability is one of the characteristics of Swiss family life. The third generation of the same family now 

occupies this home. 

























s 







IN SWITZERLAND 


213 


had many doors, but the most interesting 
one to us children was the great arched 
entrance into the wine cellar. It had 
symbolic figures on it of the god Bacchus 
and other celebrities, and inscriptions 
which will go out of fashion when Swit¬ 
zerland follows the good example of the 
United States of America and adopts na¬ 
tional prohibition. The Hauser garden 
was one of the beauty spots of the district. 
All the paths were graveled, and bordered 
with dwarf boxwood. This garden had 
been laid out at the time the house was 
built and was never altered. A stone 
wall surrounded it, low enough so pass¬ 
ers-by could easily look over; and there 
was a summer-house, but it was very old. 
Uncle Hauser always seemed absorbed in 
thought or business, and we girls never 
dared disturb him or ask him questions. 
But I had the kindest feelings toward him 
because I knew it was he whose counsel 
had helped Father decide to send me to 
the high school. 


r 


214 WHEN I WAS A GIRL 

Aunt Hauser was like a real city per¬ 
son. She wore her hair puffed over the 
ears, the puffs being made by means of 
peculiarly shaped side-combs over which 
the hair was drawn. When dressed to go 
out she wore a “ skyscraper ” bonnet and 
mits, and a mantilla. In Godey’s La¬ 
dies 3 Magazine of the early sixties there 
are pictures showing those fashions. The 
only work we girls had to do was to take 
care of our own rooms and do errands for 
Uncle. Sometimes we worked a little in 
the garden. The girls and their mother 
were wonderful singers, and the house 
was much of the time ringing with their 
songs and yodels. I found it so conge¬ 
nial at Aunt Hauser’s that I sometimes 
wished for rain, just as some of the boys 
wanted to buy headaches. 

Everything seemed to be working out 
all right; but one day there was a great 
“ crash,” so to speak, and sudden changes 
took place in our household. 


CHAPTER XXII 


AN UNEXPECTED TURN OF EVENTS 

As I said before, while I was still in 
the grammar school my father greatly ex¬ 
panded his business; but when he was 
about to reap the benefits from his im¬ 
provements, the panic swept our country 
which followed the close of the Civil War 
in America. The first intimation I had 
that my father was being affected by it 
was when some one asked me whether it 
was true that he would have to “ let go.” 

After that I heard disturbing reports 
from other sources. These were con¬ 
firmed to my mind when our maid was 
discharged and Mother began to do all 
the housework. Soon after this one day 
Father said I would have to give up go¬ 
ing to the high school because it was too 

expensive, and also because I was needed 

215 


216 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


to help at home. I told Mr. Reichling, 
or attempted to tell him; but I broke 
down and cried before I had fairly 
started. He seemed to understand it all, 
and he consoled me by saying that he 
would fix it up as far as the expense was 
concerned and for me to keep on attend¬ 
ing school as though nothing had hap¬ 
pened. The folks at home were willing I 
should do so. 

A few days later Mr. Reichling in¬ 
formed me that he had obtained a scholar¬ 
ship for me for the rest of the school year, 
and upon that the folks at home con¬ 
sented to my continuing to attend school. 
Moreover, the housework question took 
care of itself; for Father disposed of all 
his business and this reduced our family 
to only four. 

Our home was sold. Fortunately 
Uncle Hans bought it, so it remained in 
the family, and heirlooms such as the sta¬ 
tionary clock and Uncle Hans-Heiri’s 
memorial were left right there. Soon 


IN SWITZERLAND 


217 


afterward Father left for America. At 
the time I did not realize the full signifi¬ 
cance of his going. He had often been 
away on long business trips. 

Years afterward when I understood 
what all those sudden happenings meant, 
I became convinced that Father on that 
occasion went like Abraham of old, “ not 
knowing whither.” In America it soon 
became my privilege to add my earn¬ 
ings to the family living. I told Father 
then that the District High School had 
helped largely to make it possible; that 
my contributions were the result of that 
eventful decision, the interest on his then 
investment, so to speak. 

After Father was gone, Mother and 
my brother went to live with her brother 
at the inn, and it was arranged for me to 
stay all the time at Aunt Hauser’s. It 
was wonderful how kind the boys were to 
me during those sad days. Almost daily 
they took messages from me to Mother 
and brought me messages from her; often 


218 WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 

they carried packages back and forth be¬ 
tween us. Jacques was the kindest of all; 
it seemed as if he could not do enough for 
me. 

Meanwhile Father wrote from Amer¬ 
ica saying that he wished us to follow as 
soon as all matters could be arranged. 
Fie also advised that if possible I begin 
the study of English at once. 

Father’s letters to us were common 
property so to speak, in the whole village; 
and the fact that he had advised me to 
study English soon got to the ears of our 
Frau Pfarrer. She had been graduated 
from a high school and this formed a com¬ 
mon interest between us. In the turn 
that affairs were now taking in our 
family, she showed herself soothingly 
tender, and expressed herself as ready to 
help in any way she could. I had no idea 
that I could begin the study of English 
while I was still attending the high school 
and studying French. It was after grad¬ 
uation that I hoped to take up that study. 


IN SWITZERLAND 


219 


Frau P fairer advised me to begin at once 
and she offered to give me lessons. It 
was just what she needed, she said: Some 
incentive to make her go over the prin¬ 
ciples and brush up on the conjugations 
and declensions. After her exchange 
years in the Walschland she had spent a 
year in England, and she was fast for¬ 
getting English. 

Mother accepted her kind offer. Dur¬ 
ing the rest of that school year I went 
every Saturday to Weiach, and Frau 
Pfarrer gave me a long lesson in the lan¬ 
guage which has become mine by adop¬ 
tion. I recall now how very easy seemed 
to me the study of English after going 
over those terrible irregular French 
verbs. The only difficult thing about 
English was the pronunciation. By the 
end of the school year I could read and 
translate almost any of iEsop’s Fables; 
but that was because I was tolerably fa¬ 
miliar with them. 

Meanwhile the prospect of removing to 


220 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


America had put an end to my cherished 
plan of going to Yverdon and fitting my¬ 
self to become a governess. The question 
was, if not a governess, what then should 
it be? Until this was settled and a new 
goal set, I could not feel that I was work¬ 
ing to any definite end; so thoroughly had 
I been schooled in the Swiss ideal of ap¬ 
plication to a fixed purpose. 

It was in this state of uncertainty that 
I finished my second year in the high 
school. Looking back upon that period 
now, I realize as I did not then, that 
Mr. Reichling was a true teacher. He 
sought to cultivate in us the finest type 
of patriotism, an exalted idealism, and 
proper respect for honest labor. His aim 
was to refine emotions as well as to culti¬ 
vate intellects. It could be said of him 
as Diesterweg said of Pestalozzi: he 
turned the schoolhouse into an institution 
for human culture. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


AMERICA—THE WONDERFUL 

At the end of the second year in the 
high school I was offered a scholarship 
for the third year, and Mother was will¬ 
ing that I should accept it if I wanted to. 
But Dr. Hauser, on whose judgment we 
placed much reliance and who assumed a 
sort of fatherly attitude toward me after 
my father was gone, said that since 
America was now our goal it would be 
wise to concentrate on the study of Eng¬ 
lish. 

About that time Father also wrote ad¬ 
vising that I make a beginning in learn¬ 
ing the modiste trade, as he had heard 
that in America it was a paying business. 
It was very painful to me to give up the 
governess idea; hut to be a modiste 

seemed to me to be the next best calling, 

221 


222 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


since that was what Caroline had chosen. 
I hoped that Caroline and I might be ap¬ 
prenticed to the same mistress; but Caro¬ 
line continued another year in high 
school. I would have done the same, had 
not America loomed so large. 

To make a long story short, I was ap¬ 
prenticed in the neighboring town of 
Glattfelden to a modiste whose brother 
had been one of Father’s helpers. Being 
fond of needlework I entered with resig¬ 
nation and even with some joy upon this 
new venture. In Switzerland the ap¬ 
prenticeship system is governed by well- 
defined laws, and a written contract is 
drawn in every case. A master or mis- 
tress undertaking the industrial training 
of youth stands in parents’ place, and an 
apprentice is a member of the family. 

I continued my English lessons and 
from now on I took two a week. The 
hour’s walk from Glattfelden to Weiach 
was a needful change from the steady ap¬ 
plication to needlework indoors, and it 


IN SWITZERLAND 


223 


was pleasant to see Mother and my 
brother and the Frau Pfarrer so often. 
Let no one think that those lessons were 
confined to the mere study of English. 
Frau Pfarrer had ways of combining 
them with all sorts of ethics befitting a 
young girl. Moreover, pious soul that 
she was, she had on hand the Gospels in 
English, little gift editions which she 
gave me to read between lessons. 

During that year from April to Octo¬ 
ber everything I read was in the English 
language. This was on the advice of 
Frau Pfarrer; and it was there that I 
imbibed a lesson in concentration of mind 
to the matter in hand that has been of 
great value to me through life. The only 
unfamiliar text I attemped in English 
was Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. This 
hook was Frau Pfarrer’s parting gift and 
what solace on many occasions its lore has 
been to me! Plow often when I have 
been face to face with the “ lions ” has the 
remembrance that they were “ chained ” 


224 


WHEN I WAS A GIRL 


reassured me. I would that every child 
of twelve years and upward might read 
that book. 

I spent the Sunday before our depar¬ 
ture in visiting once more my dear Grand¬ 
father, whom I had neglected shamefully 
during three years. Cousin Setti went 
with me. Strange to say, that last visit 
which ought to be the most memorable in 
all my experience seems to have vanished 
from my ken. I remember no more about 
it than I would if I had not been there. 
I think that in reality I was not there; I 
was already far away in wonderful 
America. I know I was rather cool 
toward Grandfather. I am sure that he 
felt it and was aggrieved. As I started 
to go away he gave me a coin of large 
denomination and turned his face away. 
None of the uncles or aunts was at home 
that day. 

From there I went to Wyl, to my god¬ 
mother. She gave me as parting gift a 
slab of bacon and cut it in two so Cousin 


IN SWITZERLAND 


225 


Setti and I could each carry half. It was 
so heavy that when we got into the woods 
we took off the wrappings and laid the 
bacon at the foot of a tree. I had seen 
Grandfather hang fresh pork into trees 
for the woodpeckers, and we thought the 
birds would find this bacon even if it was 
on the ground. 

I wrote to Grandfather several times 
from America before I received an an¬ 
swer. Then one day a long letter came 
from him, telling me that his sons had 
died; that Aunt Ursula was taking care 
of him and Aunt Judith had gone back to 
her home in Rafz. He also wrote that he 
was seventy-five years old and had as yet 
no gray hairs, and that he was writing 
without the use of spectacles. I wrote 
him a long letter telling him that I was 
telegraph operator in a railroad office 
getting forty dollars a month, equivalent 
to about two hundred francs, and that I 
could travel free on the railroads. 

Soon after that I was notified by my 


226 


WHEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


godfather, who was appointed my guard¬ 
ian when Father left for America, that 
Grandfather had died and that he had left 
some money for me. Then I felt sad in¬ 
deed, for I had begun to miss him and to 
realize more fully what he had been to 
me. 

Years afterward when I visited Buch- 
enloo I found Grandfather’s house 
turned into an inn. Some of the old fur¬ 
niture was still there and in the buffet 
was the big pewter tankard from which as 
a child I loved to draw water for Grand¬ 
father. 

I was so happy in the prospect of go¬ 
ing to America and rejoining Father, 
that there was no sadness connected with 
my leave-taking from anybody. The sad¬ 
ness came later when I found myself 
among strangers in a strange land, and 
suffered the pangs of homesickness. 
Then I realized that I was missing some¬ 
thing and somebody. It was home and 
friends. 



IN SWITZERLAND 


227 


The day came at last. Thanks to that 
old almanac of 1867, I know the exact 
date, for in there opposite October fourth 
is recorded in Mother’s handwriting the 
fact that we three left Weiach. We went 
first to Baden, a city in the Canton 
Aargau, and our nearest railroad station. 
Aunt Hauser and Setti’s father went 
with us. We had a last meal together, 
then we three boarded the train. I can 
still see the sad faces and how they wept 
as the train pulled out. Mother wept, 
too. But my brother and I felt as the 
average American child does who is about 
to go on an extended outing. 

From Baden we went to Basel. Aunt 
Hauser had given me a little note-book 
and pencil and I began at once to write 
down the stopping-places as they were 
called out. In the car were ladies and 
gentlemen bound for Havre to take the 
same steamer on which Mother had en¬ 
gaged passage, the William Penn. Be¬ 
fore Basel was reached we had become ac- 


228 


WEEN 1 WAS A GIRL 


quainted with several of our fellow-pas¬ 
sengers. They laughed at the persistency 
with which I got the names of the stations 
and wrote them down, and said I would 
have my book filled before we reached 
Basel. But it held out until we arrived at 
Paris and then I lost it. 

We spent the night in Basel. The 
next morning we boarded the train for 
Paris, and it was not long before we 
crossed the Swiss frontier. Here my 
story will have to end, for after that I 
was no longer a girl in Switzerland. 


THE END 



INDEX 


Aargau, 87, 227 
^Esop, 184, 208, 219 
Agassiz, Louis, 71 
Almanac, 23, 24, 227 
Alps, 67, 118, 170, 177 
America, 19; vastness of, 
60, 61; allegiance to, 75; 
homesick for, 75; Civil 
War in, 94, 167, 215; 
changing names in, 211; 
prospect of going to, 
218, 221, 226; departure 
for, 227 
Amiel, 72 

Amsel, 97, 100, 101, 102 
Andorra, 62 

Apprentice System, 222 
Arrow, 49, 115 
Attinghausen, 117, 118 

Baden, 11, 157, 227 
Baedeker, 13, 60, 65, 66 
Basel, 53, 74, 180, 227, 228 
Berne, 65, 74 
Birr, 87 

Black Forest, 179, 180 
Blatter of Basel, 87 
Bodmer of Zurich, 72 
Bocklin, Arnold, 71 
Breitinger of Zurich, 72 
Buchenloo, 44, 49, 51, 54, 
59, 226 

Caesar, Julius, 10, 65 
Chamisso, Adalbert v., 63, 
178 


Charlemagne, Emperor, 
112, 113, 114 

Chautauquan Magazine, 
135 

Cleveland, Mrs. Grover, 
89 

Columbia, 10 

Columbus, Christopher, 
209, 210 
Cuckoo, 44, 79 
Customs: of doing tasks 
in “bees,” 154; of ex¬ 
changing daughters, 195 

Dandliker, Carl, 72 
Delafontaine, 183, 208 
Delavigne, 209 
Dower, 41, 138 
Dufour, General Henri, 74 
Dunant, Jean Henri, 71, 
142 

Eglisau, 58, 59, 100, 180, 
188 

Emerson,, Ralph Waldo, 
176, 183 
Engadine, 100 

Fellenberg of Berne, 87 
Franc (coin), 58, 225 
Freiburg, 74 
Froebel, Frederic, 88 
Fiissli of Zurich, 87 

Gallatin, Albert, 72, 116 
Gelte, 27, 162, 163 


229 


230 


INDEX 


Geneva, 74, 88, 197 
Gens d’armes, 158, 159 
Gessler, 117 

Glaciers: the Aletsch, 99; 

the Rhone, 99 
Glattfelden, 100, 222 
Goats, 20, 52, 151, 152 
Godey’s Ladies’ Magazine, 
214 

Goethe, 183 

Graffenried of Berne, 87 
Guyot, Arnold, 71 

Hapsburgs, the, 117 
Havre, 227 

Hebei, Peter, 54, 179, 180 
Helvetia, 10, 200 
Helvetii, 65 
Hessians, 115 
Hirzel of Ziirich, 87 
Hodler, Ferdinand, 71 
Holidays: popular, Fas- 
nacht, 141, 142; Kirmess, 
142, 143; Berchtold day, 
144; Christinas Eve, 147; 
Sylvester day, 148; 
Thanks, Penance and 
Prayer day, 192 

Iselin of Basel, 87 
Index, 229 

Industries, home, 13, 14; 
knitting, 14, 57, 151, 189; 
silk weaving, 14; watch¬ 
making, 14; woodcarv¬ 
ing, 14; straw braiding, 
14, 57; spinning, 164 

Journeyman, 196 

Kaiserstuhl, 10, 11, 12, 13, 
84, 100, 143, 158, 180, 
193 


Kauffmann, Angelica, 71, 

133, 134, 135 
Keller, Caspar, 71 
Kilometer, 59 
Knapsack, 39, 175, 205 
Kopp, 116 

Kratze, 56, 156, 162, 163 
Krusi, Herman, 72 

Lausanne, 88, 89 
Lavater, Johann Caspar, 
72, 87 

Legends, 60; of wandering 
Jew, 62; of serpent, 113 
Lincoln, President, 94 
Lion Memorial, 115 
Literary Digest, 72 

Mercenaries, 115, 116 
Metric System, 15, 57, 58 
Moser, Mary, 71, 134 
Mountains: Gibisniit, 151, 
177, 199; Hobrig, 37, 99, 
100, 110, 170, 177; Mat¬ 
terhorn, 100; Monte 
Rosa, 100; Schanzen- 
berg, 99, 100, 170, 177; 
Stadlerberg, 200; Uetli- 
berg, 67, 68, 98, 99, 100; 
Todi, 118; Glarnisch, 118 

Napoleon, 89 
Necker, Jean, 72 
Neerach, 175 

Nepomuk, St. John of, 12 
Night watchman, 69 
Neuhof, 87, 88 
Neuchatel, 197 

Paris, 228 

Passes: Mountain, the 

Gemmi, 100; the Grim- 
sel, 100 
Postilion, 10 


INDEX 


231 


Pestalozzi: Father, famous 
educator, 72, 86, 88; 

Biographies of, 89; Au¬ 
thor of Leonard and 
Gertrude, 88, 133; demo¬ 
cratic principles of, 86; 
manual training intro¬ 
duced by, 86; birthplace 
of, 67, 89; statues of, 89; 
School in Neuhof, 87; 
Institute in Yverdon, 
88, 197; what Diesterweg 
said of, 220 

Pestalozzian Pilgrimage, 
a, 135 

Pestalozzianum in Zurich, 
67 

Quimps, Roger de, 89 

Rafz, 44, 46, 52 
Red Cross Society, 71, 142 
Rhine, the, 9, 11, 12, 44, 
58, 99, 158, 180, 181 
Rhinefelden, 44, 100, 161 
Romana, Francesca, 87 
Rousseau, 72 
Riiden, the, 67 

Sampler, 138, 139, 140, 193 
San Marino, 62 
Sarasin of Basel, 87 
Schappi, Miss Emilie, 98, 
105, 160, 203 
Schiller, 181, 182, 203 
Schnapps, 96, 112 
School: attendance, 74; 
sessions, 90; holidays, 
105-110; outing, 112- 
118; religious instruc¬ 
tion, 121; needlework, 
136-140; continuation, 
166; district high, 166- 
220 


Seton, Mrs. Grace Gal¬ 
latin, 73 
Skylark, 53 
Spitteler, Carl, 72 
Spyri, Johanna, 72 
Stael, Madame de, 134 
Stadel, 100, 168, 170, 173, 
207 

St. Gotthard, 178, 180 
Storks, 54, 55, 206, 207 
Swallows, 54 

Swiss: dialect, 9, 54; Fed¬ 
eral Railroad, 9, 59; 

army, 38, 205; cos¬ 

tumes, 51; flag, 107, 142; 
churchyard, 189; songs 
of, 68; Psalm of, 200, 
201; Guard at the Vat¬ 
ican, 116 

Switzerland: “Playground 
of Europe,” 61; area of, 
61, 62; a republic, 62, 63; 
population of, 63; lan¬ 
guages of, 63, 64; his¬ 
tory of, 65; famous per¬ 
sonages of, 71, 72, 134; 
universities of, 74 

Tause, 162, 163 
Tell, William, 72; arrow 
that pierced apple, 115, 
116; picture of, in 
schools, 117; drama of, 
117, 181 

Tell, Madame, 117, 118 
Tile stove, 132 
Title: wife shares hus¬ 
band’s, 16; derived from 
trade, etc., 26, 147 
Tscharner, of Berne, 87 
Tschudi, 72, 211 
Tyrol, the, 63 

United States, 61, 94 


232 


INDEX 


Valleys: of Reuss, 100; of 
Rhone, 100 
Vaud, 197 

Walschland, the, 196, 197, 
219 

Wedding festivities, 149 
Weggli, 25, 107 
Weiach, 9, 10, 54, 57, 65, 
99, 168, 227 

Weiach-Kaiserstuhl, 13 
Widiner, Leonard, 201 
Wiese, die, 180, 181 
Winkelried, Arnold v., 72 
Woman’s Christian Tem¬ 
perance Union, 104 


Woodpeckers, 53, 225 
World War, 62, 75 
Wyl, 49, 224 


Yverdon, 88, 89, 197, 198, 
220 


Zeus, 182, 183 
Zurich, 65; population of, 
66; Museums, 66; Uni¬ 
versity, 74 

Zschokke of Aargau, 87 
Zwingli, Ulrich, 72, 115, 
116, 134 








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